


30 Days in the Life of Cas and Dean

by clotpoleofthelord (plantainleaf)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Constant Schmoop, Cuddling & Snuggling, Fallen Castiel, Ficlets, Grumpy Castiel, Holding Hands, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, LARPing, M/M, Schmoop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-01
Updated: 2013-06-30
Packaged: 2017-12-13 17:31:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 30
Words: 21,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/826919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/plantainleaf/pseuds/clotpoleofthelord
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a 30 days, 30 prompts fic!</p><p>I totally stole this idea from riseofthefallenone. Here are the prompts:</p><p>Holding hands<br/>Cuddling somewhere<br/>Gaming/watching a movie<br/>On a date<br/>Kissing<br/>Wearing each others’ clothes<br/>Cosplaying<br/>Shopping<br/>Hanging out with friends<br/>Hurt/Comfort<br/>Making out<br/>Eating icecream<br/>In a different clothing style<br/>During their morning ritual(s)<br/>Spooning<br/>Doing something together<br/>In formal wear<br/>Dancing<br/>Cooking/baking<br/>In battle, side-by-side<br/>Bathing together<br/>Gazing into each others’ eyes<br/>Arguing<br/>Making up afterwards<br/>Sick<br/>Getting married<br/>On one of their birthdays<br/>Doing something ridiculous<br/>Doing something sweet<br/>Doing something hot</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Holding Hands

Cas doesn’t ask him for much.

So when Dean sees him eyeing a couple of teenagers in the park more intensely than usual, he pays attention.

The two are walking along the edge of the pond, leaning close. Their heads are inches apart and their hands are entwined.

He looks around the park. It’s almost dark, Sam’s not gonna be back from the library for hours, and Cas has a wistful look on his face that Dean really doesn’t want.

So what if it’s girly, and way too public for Dean Winchester?

He’s in love with an angel, they’ve got a few hours free, and hell, gay marriage is legal in Massachusetts.

So why the fuck can’t they hold hands?

He reaches out, hating himself for the moment of hesitation despite fifteen minutes of psyching himself up for this, and slides his palm against Cas’s.

Cas’s finger clench spasmodically and he turns to Dean, eyes wide.

Dean shakes his head and pulls Cas towards the path, shoulders bumping and heads pressed close together.


	2. Cuddling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 2 - Cuddling somwhere.

They’re on the couch in the bunker, in front of the 60 inch plasma TV Dean decided they needed desperately, having a few beers with Kevin when Dean realizes something.

“Cas. Hey, Cas.” He elbows the former angel, who jumps. Dean realizes that they both are a little drunk. Maybe. “Cas!”

“Yes, Dean?” Cas’s eyes are focusing on Dean’s forehead and his beer is at a dangerous angle in his hand, tilting slowly towards the couch.

Dean reaches out and turns the beer until it’s upright. “Cas. You’re human now.”

Cas’s face flashes from content to annoyed to confused. “Yes, Dean.”

“I know. I know. It fucking sucks.” Dean leans closer. “But you know what sucks most about it?”

Cas leans closer as well, tilting his head and squinting at Dean. It’s a lot less menacing when he’s in a ragged t-shirt with staticky hair than as an avenging angel of the Lord. “What?”

Their faces are inches apart, and Dean can feel the warmth from Cas’s skin and smell his newly human smell.

“You’ve been human for two months, Cas, and you still have not seen Star Wars.” Dean shakes his head solemnly. “Not cool.”

Kevin snorts from the other side of the room. “And that’s my cue to leave. Night, guys.” He stands as Dean nearly falls off the couch in surprise. He’d forgotten there was anyone in the room besides the two of them. Kevin rolls his eyes and heads towards his room.

As the door slams, Dean grabs the remote and tries to remember how to navigate to Netflix, but the buttons are small and his fingers seem really, really big all of a sudden. Finally he groans, throws it into the armchair, and gets up to grab the DVD and put it in the player.

He returns to the couch to find Cas sprawled along it and shrugs. “Move or I’ll sit on you, dude.”

Cas burrows further into the cushions. “This couch is very comfortable, Dean.”

“Fine.” Dean flops down on top of the angel, who is bony and scratchy and actually... kind of perfect to lay on.

He slides over until he’s between Cas and the back of the couch and wraps his arms around his dozing friend, shaking him. “Hey. Hey. Stay awake. Movie’s starting.”

Cas makes a muffled noise and presses back against Dean. Dean sighs, pulls him closer, and buries his head in Cas’s shoulder as the familiar music washes over him.

Needless to say, Cas still hasn’t seen Star Wars.


	3. Watching a Movie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 3 - Watching a Movie

Dean’s just gotten back from the store on a beer run when he hears it.

_“...you’ve got the mood prepared, go on and, kiss the girl!”_

Shit.

Since Cas fell a few months back, Dean and Sam have been trying to introduce him to all the pop culture and information he’s going to need to get by as a human. Unfortunately, they each have a very different idea of what’s necessary.

Kevin declared himself “Not your judge, guys” after just two weeks of this and now it’s become a quiet battle for Cas’s free time.

Dean’s list has reasonable things, like rock, Star Wars, Godzilla vs. Mothra and Casa Erotica. Sam’s list includes how to work a computer, the Wire, Breaking Bad, political parties and of course, Disney movies.

Dean sets the groceries down with a sigh, hurrying into the living room.

The scene he finds is not different from what he expected.

Sam is watching the movie, smiling faintly, and oh my god, he’s singing along under his breath. He’s totally unaware of the devastation playing out on Cas’s face.

Cas’s eyes are wide, filled with tears. His hands are clutching the couch beneath him and his whole body is shaking as he stares at the screen.

As Dean walks in, Sam turns with a grin but catches sight of Cas and freezes. “Cas, you ok?”

Dean stalks over to Sam and leans to whisper in his ear. “Sam. Really. A movie about someone who is cast from their home and has to choose between worlds? _Really_? And you don’t know why he’s upset?”

Sam’s eyes widen as he looks from the screen to the fallen angel on the couch. “Shit.” He grabs the remote and-

“No!” Cas stops him. “I need to know what happens.”

Sam looks at Dean. Dean looks at Sam.

Dean sighs. “Dude, you’ve done enough. I’ve got this.” He leans closer. “But you owe me bigtime for this. Tonight we’re watching Star Trek, and it’s gonna be Original Series.”

Sam stands and walks to Cas, pausing to place an awkward hand on his shoulder. Cas glances up at him quizzically, but neither speaks and Sam heads to his room.

Dean sits down on the couch next to Cas.

“Hey Cas. You, uh, you liking the movie?”

Cas turns to look at him. “The story is compelling. I’m seeing many parallels to my own, and it seems that human bodies respond to that.”

Dean laughs. “Yeah, bodies do that, dude. But a lot of movies are about somebody having to leave their home, you know that, right?”

Cas is still watching him. “That isn’t the part that I identify most with, Dean,” he says earnestly. “Ariel left her home and her father, losing her power, as I did, that’s true. But she did it because she loved a man she had saved.”

Dean stares at him, flush rising in his cheeks. “Wait, what?”

“She left her home for the prince as well as because of her disagreements with her family.” Cas cocks his head. “Have you seen this movie, Dean?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ve seen it.” Dean watches Cas warily.

“I identify you with the character of Prince Eric, Dean. You have very similar roles in the stories. I saved you from Hell, as Ariel saved him from the ocean.”

“That’s... uh, that’s not the part I was talking about, Cas.” Dean gulps, a warm feeling rising in his chest. “You, um, you said she loved him.”

“As I love you, Dean.” Cas’s face is open and honest, the movie forgotten and playing in the background. “I have since I saw your soul in Hell.”

Dean isn’t sure how to respond to that, so he just turns back to the movie, fighting down whatever the feeling is. But he can’t help but throw an arm around Cas’s shoulders and pull him closer to his side.

They watch the movie in silence for a few minutes, and Dean sits and enjoys the warmth of Cas pressed against his side, his head on Dean’s shoulder. He turns his head and presses a kiss to the angel’s hair. “I’m pretty damn fond of you too, Cas.” He smiles as he realizes what the warmth in his belly is. “I uh, I think I might love you too, buddy.”

“I know,” says Cas serenely. “I could read your thoughts until recently, if you recall.” He rubs his face into Dean’s neck. “I had hoped you’d realize it sooner, however.”

Dean snorted and turned until his head slid into Cas’s lap and he could stretch out across the couch. “Fuckin’ figures.” He throws an arm over Cas’s lap and feels a hand card through his hair. “Angels, man.”


	4. On a Date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 4 - On a Date

It’s not a date.

It’s not.

It’s just two friends, grabbing dinner and a movie, all right?

Dean tells Sam, tells Charlie, tells himself this, but he can’t quite bring himself to say it quite so clearly to Cas.

They’ve been doing this... thing they do for a few weeks now, but Dean’s not really sure what it is. It’s not the thing it was for the first four years they knew each other, the one where Cas stood too close and stared too long and Dean tried to ignore how his heart sped up when he heard wingbeats, and where no one talked about it outside the boundaries of “profound bonds” and “deeper connections.” No, it wasn’t that.

Cas loves him, Dean knows. And he knows he loves Cas. And they’d held hands at a pond and they’d sat too close together on the couch and they’d held each other through Star Wars and Disney and everything in between, but... they don’t talk about it.

So this?

This isn’t a date.

It’s two friends, having a nice, candle-lit dinner before heading to a movie-

Fuck.

It’s a date.


	5. Kissing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 5 - Kissing
> 
> Spoiler warning for Star Trek:Into Darkness!

They’re sitting in the theatre for Star Trek: Into Darkness, waiting for the previews to begin, when Cas turns to Dean with a serious expression that Dean associates with a feeling of panic in the depths of his stomach.

“Dean.”

Dean turns to him, adrenaline mounting. “Yeah, Cas?”

“Does... does this situation call for popcorn?” By the expression on Cas’s face, the question might as well be life or death.

“What?” Dean’s heart slows after a moment from its frantic rush.

“Popcorn, Dean. When we watched the reels in the bunker, you told me movies required popcorn.”

“Oh. Uh. Yes. Yeah. I’ll go get some.” He stands, trying to calm his pounding heart, and hurries down the aisle, ignoring Cas’s perplexed stare after him.

Standing in line at the concessions booth, Dean rubs a hand over his face. This is ridiculous.

He’s just watching a movie with his best friend. And maybe, just maybe, it’s a date, but they’ve been dancing around for too long, and dammit, he’s done with it.

He pays for his popcorn, sodas, snocaps and nachos (because really, it’s Cas’s first time in a theatre and he deserves the full experience) with conviction, throwing down his $20.75 perhaps harder than is really necessary.

Fuck it all. This is a date, dammit, and he’s gonna do it right.

Cas is staring intently at the screen when he returns to their seats. It’s a preview for World War Z, and Cas is completely focused on Brad Pitt’s fight against the zombie apocalypse.

As Dean sits, Cas tears his attention from the screen. “This scenario seems improbable, Dean. Being raised from the dead is not contagious, nor does it cause humans to become violent.”

Dean shakes his head. “Zombies are a big thing lately. Not sure why.” He pushes his mind from a different Cas in a future world that looked a lot like the one in the movie. “I’m not gonna see it, that’s for sure.” He pushes the overflowing tray towards Cas. “Popcorn.”

Cas takes in the variety. “Is all this food traditional for movie viewing?”

Dean nods, grinning. “Yeah. And we gotta finish it before the movie ends, so better dig in.” He grabs a handful of popcorn and tosses it in his mouth, giving Cas a messy smile.

Cas tries a piece of popcorn, face curious, then a chip dipped in nacho cheese. He chews for a moment, then his eyes widen and he drags the nacho plate towards his side of the tray.

Dean laughs out loud, and the other couple in the theatre, a few rows down, turn to glare. He gives them his sweetest smile in return, and they turn back to the movie with a grumble. “Guess you liked that, huh?”

Cas nods, mouth full of fake cheese.

The lights go down a few seconds later, and the familiar scenery of the 23rd century spreads across the screen.

“So this is the sequel to the movie we saw yesterday, Cas,” whispers Dean, leaning close. “It picks up a while after the end of the last one.”

Cas nods gravely, eyes fixed on Spock’s descent into the volcano as he scrapes up the last of the nacho cheese with a chip. He glances down when his next chip comes up empty and frowns, handing the sticky plastic to Dean, who takes it and sets it on the floor.

On screen, Spock and Kirk are arguing about the value of Spock’s life in comparison to the Prime Directive. Dean sneaks a glance at his- dammit, his date.

Cas is transfixed, hands clenching the armrests and eyes wide, darting from Kirk to Spock and back again as they discuss the issue heatedly.

Dean’s committed to this date thing. He’s already decided that. He watches Cas for another moment to ensure that he’s totally focused on the movie, and stretches his arms up in a classic move, resting one along the back of Cas’s seat.

Cas doesn’t seem to notice for a moment, until he leans back and jumps when he encounters Dean’s arm. He turns to Dean, confused, and Dean gives him his best heartbreaker grin. Cas smiles back hesitantly, and turns back to the movie, but not before he leans a little closer to Dean. Dean slides his arm down in response, pulling Cas close into his side until their shoulders are pressed together.

They stay this way through the action of the movie: through Khan’s crimes, Pike’s death, Kirk’s rebellion and Khan’s betrayal. Finally they reach Kirk’s death, and as he slumps to the floor and Spock screams for Khan, Cas turns to Dean.

There are tears in his eyes and he’s overwhelmed with emotion, Dean can tell. So he leans close to Cas’s ear and whispers, “It’s gonna be okay. I promise.” He presses a kiss to Cas’s temple. “This one kinda hits close to home, I guess. For both of us.” He presses his forehead to the side of Cas’s head. “But it turned out good for us. And it will for Jim and Spock too.”

And just as he promised, Kirk is resurrected, much to Spock’s delight, and Cas actually claps as Kirk’s eyes open and Spock stares down at him. They’re gonna be fine.

And so are Dean and Cas, Dean realizes as they head back out into the cold. And as they round the corner towards the car, out of sight of the rest of the theatre’s patrons, he realizes there’s one thing he forgot to round out his plan for the date.

He stops, pulls Cas close, and presses their lips together in a firm kiss.

Cas makes a small, surprised noise, but wraps his arms around Dean and returns it, lips warm and soft against Dean’s own.

Yeah, this was a good date.


	6. Wearing Each Other's Clothes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 6 - Wearing Each Other's Clothes

Dean doesn't think he's ever seen Cas so filthy. Even in Purgatory, Cas was meticulous about rinsing off at least his face and hands in every stream they passed.

But now?

Dean doesn't know whether to laugh or hand him a towel.

Both, he decides. Both is good.

He reaches into the trunk and pulls out one of their ragged spare towels and hands it to the angel, who takes it with a mournful sigh.

Dean can't hold in his laughter anymore.

"Cas-" he chokes out, tipping forward with the force of his giggles, "Cas, you gotta watch out for puddles when you're jogging, man."

Cas glares at him. "It was not a _puddle,_ Dean. It was a sinkhole. Possibly a small pond. And I-" he swiped the towel over his face angrily, leaving a smear of skin showing through the coating of mud- "I am very curious how what amounts to approximately five cubic yards of mud ended up in the middle of a road." He shakes his head. "And how this filth did not impair the function of my cell phone is a second mystery."

Dean shakes his head, chuckles finally subsiding. "There was caution tape around it, Cas. I had to move it to get to you. Guess you were in your own world." He looks at the angel appraisingly. "But you're not getting in my car like that, man. Here, let me-" he pulls the already filthy towel from Cas's hands and scrubbed at Cas's hair, then sighs and reachs back in the trunk for another.

When he turns back around, Cas is pulling off his shirt and toeing off his sneakers. Dean pauses for a moment, watching Cas's muscles move in his bared chest, but grabs wrist as he reaches for the drawstring on his shorts.

"Hey, hey, whoa, Cas! You can't just strip down in the street, dude!" He pulls Cas behind the Impala and pours a bottle of water on one towel, and begins wiping down Cas's chest and back. Cas finishes stripping down and stands before Dean, resembling nothing more than a cat who's spent the night out in the rain. He's shivering, now, and as much as Dean enjoy the sight of a fit, naked Castiel, the angel looks so miserable that he can't really appreciate the view.

"Here." Dean wraps the largest, fluffiest towel they've got around Cas's shoulders and reaches into the trunk again, digging around. Cas is shivering harder now that a breeze has begun to blow down the road, and Dean hands him a pair of sweats and a worn tee shirt, helping Cas to pull them on with his shaking fingers.

"I never experienced cold until I fell. It is not a pleasant sensation." Cas pulls the towel back around his shoulders. "Nor is being damp." He glares at Dean. "Or being mocked."

Dean nods. "I know. I'm sorry." He presses a kiss to Cas's temple then pulls off his own jacket, replacing the soggy towel with it around Cas's shoulders. "Better?"

Cas nods, pulling the edges of the jacket closer around himself.

Dean ruffles his hair, then pulls open the Impala's door. "Let's get home, ok?"

If Cas slides closer to Dean than usual in the front seat, and if Dean wraps an arm around him and drives one-handed, well, nobody needs to know about that.

 


	7. Cosplaying

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 7 - Cosplaying

"We're pretending to be knights, Cas." Dean's exasperation is starting to show. "It's fantasy. You know, swords, elves, damsels in distress. It's fun, it's relaxing, we're doing it. End of story."

"Dean, these costumes are not accurate to any period of history. And elves-"

"It's not based on a period of history, Cas! It’s fantasy. Fiction. If I wanted historical accuracy I'd do the damn reenactments in Virginia Garth keeps calling about."

“I don’t understand the purpose of this activity.” Cas’s voice has taken on the pissy tone Dean recognizes as the start of what he privately thinks of as Cas’s humanity-related tantrums. “This outfit looks uncomfortable. And I’ve fought in enough wars that I would prefer to avoid imaginary ones.”

Dean throws his hands in the air. “Fine. Fine. Whatever. You just sit here then, because I promised Charlie I’d go with her and we’re already here. And no, you can’t take the car to the library. No driving alone, not after last time.”

Cas sits on the bench with a thud, crossing his arms, brows drawing together in an expression that, as an angel, would be intimidating. As a human, though, it kind of makes him look like a toddler.

Dean’s pissed off. This was supposed to be a fun day. He was gonna show Cas something cool that he and Charlie do, and Cas was going to have fun, and be a handmaiden with Dean, and bond with Charlie and be Dean’s awesome angel-friend (Dean didn’t even want to think the word ‘boyfriend’ let alone use it to describe Cas). They were going to eat turkey legs and Cas was going to maybe fall in the mud and they’d laugh it off and go home and maybe, just maybe do more than make out.

But no. He forgot that Cas was the pissiest angel on the planet.

He glances over his shoulder as he yanks the chainmail over his head and a fresh wave of irritation sweeps through him. Cas is still just fucking sitting there, arms crossed, in modern attire and glaring at the bustling faux-medieval city around him.

Just because he was there for the real middle ages doesn’t give him the right to be a dick about this, Dean thinks as he stalks towards Charlie’s tent. Asshole.

He bounces off something soft as he passes the tavern tent. “Whoa, Dean, cool it!”

He stops and turn, then blinks. It’s Charlie in her full Queen regalia, looking at him anxiously. “Everything ok? Thought Cas was coming with.”

He forces a smile onto his face. “Yeah, Cas wasn’t feeling up to it. But, uh, if you’ve got someone for me to fight, send me their way. I could use something to pound.”

Charlie snorts, and a little of the knot of irritation loosens in Dean’s chest. “Yeah, yeah, I know.”

She leans closer conspiratorially. “That’s what you’ve got Cas for, isn’t it?”

He gives her shoulder a shove, and they head towards the arena.

“There.” Charlie points at a big guy Dean’s never seen before, wearing half-plate and holding a broadsword. The guy’s gotta be as tall as Sam, and about twice as wide, with a giant beard. He’s talking to one of the handmaidens, leering a little as he leans towards her. She’s edging away, but he’s still looming over her.

“He’s been bugging some of the girls around here, and I think I know the best way to get him out of here.”

Dean grins. It’s not a nice grin. “Beat him embarrassingly thoroughly?”

Charlie grins back. “And that’s why you’re my favorite handmaiden.”

Dean winks at her and struts up to the big man and waits, standing just inside his personal space (a trick he may have learned from a certain angel and that always leaves guys off guard). It takes a minute for him to be noticed, but eventually the other man sees that the girl he’s after isn’t watching him anymore and instead is looking over his shoulder with relief in her face. He turns and nearly crashes into Dean.

“What ho, good sir! I am Lord Roderic of Sword Hollow!” the man booms. “Dost thou desire this female?”

Dean stares at him for a moment, mouth twitching. He’s not sure if he wants to burst out laughing or punch him in the face.

He settles for stripping off a glove and hitting Roderic across the face then stepping back towards the arena, signaling a challenge.

“Oho! A challenge! Thou shalt regret thine insolence, puny fool!” He raises his sword over his head and charges at Dean, who steps aside. “Surrender, or die!”

“Dude, seriously?” Dean block’s Roderic’s next swing easily and returns with one of his own. Roderic blocks it but his eyes widen at the force of Dean’s strike.

“Thy father was a rodent! May thy manhood whither! I shall defeat thee handily!” Roderic cries as he swings.

They parry back and forth, Dean backing the other man across the ring, as Roderic lobs ever more ridiculous insults at Dean’s manliness, his family, and his skills with a sword.

It’s a great way to work out anger.

Roderic is sweating under his armor, face pale, and his swings have slowed. Dean can tell he’s tiring, and there’s a bit of real panic in his eyes.

But Dean remembers the fear on the handmaiden’s face, and doesn’t let up. He keeps his strokes just slow enough that Roderic can block them, and continues to wear him down.

Finally, Roderic makes a desperate swing that leaves his left side unguarded, and Dean decides he’s tired of the game. He whacks the other man’s side firmly with the sword, knocking him to the ground, and turns to the crowd’s cheers.

Roderic lays on the ground, panting and clutching his side, while a flagon of mead is thrust into Dean’s hand. He turns to thank whoever brought it and is met with bright blue eyes under messy brown hair. Cas has an uncharacteristic grin on his face as he hands Dean a turkey leg as well.

“That was very well done, Dean.” Cas pulls Dean close, kissing him firmly. “I believe I understand the point of this exercise better now.”

The crowd cheers even louder, but Dean’s not paying them any attention any more. He grins into Cas’s kiss and, ignoring the mead and the turkey, wraps his arms around his angel tightly.


	8. Shopping

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 8 - Shopping

"So what're you gonna make us, Cas?" asks Dean, tossing a giant pack of toilet paper into the cart.

Cas, who’s scrolling through recipes on the iPad Charlie gave him, ignores Dean.

"Cas." Dean stops walking. "Hey, Cas. Earth to Cas." He waves a hand in front of the screen and Cas glances up at him, brow furrowing. "I'm talking to you, here."

Cas presses a few buttons and closes the cover. "I know, Dean. But I'm trying to find an answer to your question." He glances at the device clutched in his hands. "The Internet has many recipes, most of which are appealing."

Dean laughs. "Better start small, though. Cooking's harder than it looks."

Cas looks skeptical. "It's merely a matter of following the instructions, Dean. And I've been following orders since before your ancestors developed spines."

Dean shakes his head as another shopper gives Cas a wide-eyed look and backs away. "Still, why don't you try something easy, like spaghetti or grilled cheese?"

Cas gives Dean a look of disdain. "I'm an angel of The Lord, Dean.” He grimaces. “Or I was, anyway. I think I can handle–" he glances down at the iPad– "chicken piccata."

Dean shrugs. He knows he’s not gonna win this one. “Okay then. Lead the way.”

The first few items they’ve already got: flour, butter, salt, pepper, olive oil and lemon juice. All they’re missing for this particular dish is chicken, capers and stock.

“You got this, Cas? I wanna go check out if they’ve got socks on sale.” Dean pushes the cart towards Cas and heads down the aisle, pausing at the end and glancing back towards Cas. He is going to go look at socks, in a minute, he swears, but first he’s just gonna make sure Cas has his shopping under control. He’s not spying, just–keeping an eye on Cas, that’s all.

But he feels kind of like a creep standing at the edge of the aisle, peering around the Oreo display and jumping back every time Cas shifts.

And Cas doesn’t seem to be moving very quickly. He’s looking at the iPad, then at the shelves around him, then at the cart. Finally, after about five minutes, he sets the tablet in the cart and starts heading decisively towards the butcher’s counter.

Dean follows, crouching behind displays whenever Cas turns, and generally feeling ridiculous.

He’s too far to hear Cas’s conversation, but whatever he says, the butcher finds hilarious and he bursts out in a booming laugh. Based on the look on Cas’s face, Dean’s willing to bet that Cas didn’t mean to make a joke, but seems happy enough about the outcome.

They speak for few moments, then the butcher, who’s tall, blond and has shoulders broader than Sam’s, hands Cas a wrapped package and a piece of paper. Cas nods and gives a small smile, placing the chicken in the cart, then wheels away. The butcher watches him go, grinning.

When Dean turns back to Cas, the former angel has disappeared down an aisle. Dean hurries to follow, grabbing a package of socks and some dish soap on the way.

He finds Cas in the soup aisle, holding a can of broth in one hand and one of stock in the other. He’s examining them closely, squinting, brow furrowed.

“Hey Cas.” Dean drops the socks and soap in the cart. “You find everything all right?”

Cas replaces the broth on the shelf and turns to Dean, smiling, “I’ve found two of the four remaining ingredients. All that remain are the brined capers and the parsley.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out the slip of paper. “And I believe I may have made a friend as well. Bill, the butcher, gave me his phone number and told me to call him some time to continue our discussion.”

Dean snorts. “I don’t think he wants to be friends, Cas.”

Cas’s face falls. “No?”

“No, dude. He wants a date.”

Cas looks thoughtful. “Human social interaction is complex.” He shakes his head and pockets the number.

\-----

Fifteen minutes later, they’ve loaded the Impala’s trunk with all their groceries and are on their way back to the bunker.

“I don’t understand why Bill gave me his number, Dean. We only spoke for a few moments. How could he determine that I’d be an acceptable sexual partner based on such a brief interaction?” He turns to look at Dean, whose hands are clenched on the wheel. “Are you certain he didn’t simply want to continue our conversation on the merits of free-range chicken?”

“Yeah, Cas. Pretty sure.”

Cas looks thoughtful. “He was certainly attractive by current standards. I’m sure he has plenty of offers for partners.”

“Don’t sell yourself short, man. You’re pretty good looking yourself.” Dean gives Cas a smile.

Cas looks thoughtful. “Perhaps I should call him, after all. I can gain practice with human dating rituals.”

Dean turns to glance at Cas. “Do you– uh, do you want to go on a date with him?”

He shrugs, a human gesture he’s been trying out recently. “I don’t know. It could be interesting.”

"Oh yeah? You think so?" There's an uneasy feeling growing in the pit of Dean's stomach.

Cas turns to him. "I have spent all my time as a human with hunters, Dean. If I'm going to be this way for a human lifetime, I should gain some experience outside the hunting world, don't you think?"

Dean nods miserably. "Guess so." He turns back to the road, turning onto the path that leads to the bunker. He's silent for a moment but feels Cas's eyes on him.

The silence stretches until they pull into their spot and Dean turns off the car. Cas sighs in the silence. "Dean..." He reaches out tentatively, resting his hand on Dean's where it lies between them. "I sense you might be... uncomfortable."

Dean opens the door but Cas holds him back firmly.

"Dean."

Dean huffs loudly, looking everywhere but Cas. Finally, he speaks. "I don't want you to go on a date with Bill the damn butcher, Cas." He flips his hand so their fingers entwine and meets Cas's eyes, and Cas can see how much this admission is costing him.

"Why not?" Cas hopes he knows the answer, but he’s learned not to assume. This is Dean, after all.

Dean sighs again, rubbing one hand across his mouth and tightening the other's grip on Cas's hand. "Because I want you with me, okay? I want to be the one to teach you human stuff, Cas. Me." He stares at Cas's hand in his, ready to pull away at the inevitable rejection.

As the silence stretches, Dean's filled with foreboding. Of course Cas wants to meet other people. Of course Dean isn't enough for him. He's given so much to hunting that maybe now he deserves a normal, boring life with a normal, boring fucking butcher–

"Dean." Fingers tip his chin up, and blue eyes meet his squarely. "I want to be with you, too." He slides his hand around Dean's cheek, cupping it gently. "I don't need to go on other dates, Dean. I had assumed you preferred an open arrangement, given your history. Was I wrong?"

Dean laughs, something uncurling in his chest. "Yeah, Cas. I'd rather just be with you. If that's all right."

Cas smiles at him, a big, wide smile that dean's only seen a few times. "Yes, Dean. It’s all right." And he leans in and presses his lips to Dean's.

The kiss starts gentle and light, just a brush of lips, but Dean slides his hands around Cas's neck and deepens it, moaning as Cas's tongue brushes the seam of his lips. Cas lets out a whimper in response, and suddenly his hands are sliding across Dean's chest and under the hem of his shirt to stroke the soft edges of Dean's belly. Dean lets out a groan and suddenly Cas is in his lap, grinding against him, pressed between Dean's body and the steering wheel and mouthing at Dean's neck as Dean palms his ass–

A loud honk sounds as Cas gets a little too forceful for the small space and he topples off Dean in surprise. He lies there for a moment, staring at Dean as the echoes of the honk fade, and then Dean bursts out laughing and Cas can’t help but grin in response.

Dean runs a hand through his hair and turns to Cas. “Let’s finish this inside, all right?”

Cas nods, and then lets out a squeak of surprise as Dean yanks him up into a hard kiss. They pull apart, panting, and head inside with the groceries.


	9. Hanging Out with Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 9 - Hanging Out with Friends

When they make it inside, finally, with all the groceries, there’s no chance to finish what they started. Charlie’s over and so’s Kevin, both glued to the TV watching the latest Hell’s Kitchen and shouting with Gordon Ramsay. Dean can’t help but join in when a contestant lights a risotto on fire.

Sam’s in the library, taking notes on a book of spells, and calls Cas in to answer some questions after the groceries are put away.

They pass each other in the hallway a few times, smiling ruefully as Dean grabs popcorn and Cas finds another color of highlighter, but it isn’t until hours later that they finally slip into Dean’s room together, close the door, and–

"Dean?" Charlie's voice drifts through the door. "Cas?"

Dean flops back on the bed with a groan. "Yeah, Charlie?"

"Sam's ordering Chinese and we're gonna play Risk. Didn't you say you wanted Cas to learn?"

Dean stands and kisses Cas quickly, then opens the door. "Yeah, we're coming."

Over lo mein and kung pao tofu, Cas wins the game by a landslide. His little green men spread across the board quickly. He looks so smug that Dean isn't sure if he wants to kiss him or punch him in the face. He settles for grabbing the last of the fortune cookies and shoving it in his mouth before anyone can object.

"Hey, what's your fortune, Dean?" asks Charlie, grabbing the slip of paper from his hand. "You will gain what you have been denied," she reads, smirking, and adds, "in bed!"

Dean looks at Cas.

Cas looks at Dean.

As one, they stand, bidding goodnight to everyone, and head for their room to a chorus of groans from everyone assembled.

They’re silent in the walk down the hallway, hands brushing as the tension builds.

Dean presses a hand to Cas's lower back to usher him into the bedroom and closes the door firmly, turning the lock. "That door is not opening. I don't care what's going on outside," he growls, crowding Cas against the wall. "You understand?"

Cas responds by kissing Dean firmly, backing him towards the bed. As he pushes Dean down on his back and kneels over him, he whispers, “no more interruptions, Dean.”

Dean nods, wrapping his hands around Cas’s neck and pulling him down into a kiss, pressing their bodies together from knee to shoulder.

Cas shoves his hands under Dean’s body and squeezes him tightly, grinding down against him as Dean’s pulse begins to speed.

Dean pulls his hands from Cas’s hair and sticks them between their bodies, fumbling with the buttons on both their jeans, swearing into Cas’s mouth when the zippers get tangled. “Not letting you wear anything but sweats from now on, dammit, Cas,” he mutters as he finally gets the flies undone and shoves both their pants down to their thighs, bucking to yank them over his hips.

Cas shudders against him, hands scrabbling at Dean’s shirt, one sliding up the flesh of his back and the other down to cup his ass through his boxers. Dean pushes at Cas, sitting up to pull his shirt and Cas’s up and off and to throw them aside. He rolls Cas on his back, pushing his own jeans and boxers off, and straddles the panting angel.

Cas stares up at him with wide, dilated eyes, cheeks pinked, lips swollen and wet. Dean can’t help but run fingers across Cas’s mouth, and Cas’s eyelids flutter as his tongue darts out to brush Dean’s fingertips.

Dean groans at the sensation, letting Cas suck his fingers into his mouth and run his tongue across the pads and between them. Pulling his hand from Cas’s mouth, he brings his wet fingers down to grasp both of their cocks in his hand, kissing Cas deeply.

Cas thrusts up into his hand, hips stuttering, and buries his face in Dean’s neck. His breathing’s harsh and loud in the quiet of the room and as his bucking hips find a rhythm his gasps became a chant of Dean’s name against his skin.

Dean presses back, hand working furiously over both of them, and comes with a groan across Cas’s stomach. Cas freezes, then bucks against Dean, shooting hot liquid between them.

Dean collapses on top of him, ignoring the stickiness starting to glue them together. His hands slide up Cas’s sides gently, making the angel twitch from the touch, and he rolls on his side, pulling Cas with him into a loose hug.

“Worth the wait?” he asks as Cas’s eyes drift closed and his head burrows into Dean’s shoulder.

Cas smiles drowsily. “It was.”


	10. Hurt/Comfort

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 10 - Hurt/Comfort

He's got the vampire on his back, pressed to the floor, when Dean hears it: a thud and a whimper that make his heart contract and ice run in his veins. He swings the knife, slicing through the vamp's neck quickly, and turns and runs towards Cas and Sam. He's not sure who's down but he needs to be there, now.

Sam's standing, surrounded by three vampires and frantically slicing at them. Dean dispatches one, then they each behead one of the others, and that's the whole nest killed.

There's a crumpled figure behind Sam. Dean drops down beside Cas, checking him for visible injuries.

There's a few slices on his arms that he sees at first glance, bleeding sluggishly, but they're not serious. Sam's beside him now, reaching for Cas as well.

"What happened?" Dean doesn't tear his eyes from Cas.

Sam sighs. "One of them hit him from behind. I didn't see what with, but-"

He's cut off by a groan from Cas, who's shifting slightly and whose eyes flutter open. "Dean?"

Dean laughs a little in relief. "Hey, Cas. How you doing?"

Cas blinks a few times, brow furrowing. "My head hurts." He starts to sit up, and Dean wraps an arm around his shoulders to guide him upright.

Sam pats his shoulder. "Yeah, you took a serious whack on the head, man. Glad you're conscious, though." He stands. "I'm gonna get started on cleanup. Meet you guys at the car?"

Dean nods, eyes still on Cas.

"I'm all right, Dean," Cas says, touching his head gingerly.

"Don't touch it!" Dean yanks Cas's hand down roughly, examining the wound. "Gonna have to get you some ice and stuff when we get home."

"Dean! I'm fine, I promise." Cas stands, pulling away from Dean and wavering slightly. "Can we go home?"

Dean stands as well, hovering near Cas without touching as he makes his slow way to the Impala. Dean opens the door, ushering him inside, and watches with hooded eyes as Cas settles himself with a wince.

The drive home isn't too long and Cas sleeps through most of it, waking a few times to green eyes watching him in the mirror.

Once they pull into the driveway, Sam grabs the bags and heads inside, leaving Cas and Dean in the car.

Dean gets out, opening Cas's door and reaching out a hand to rest hesitantly on Cas's shoulder. Cas reaches up and covers Dean's hand with his own.

Dean meets his eyes, and Cas sees something break in them and is pulled into a rough hug.

"Dean?" Cas returns the embrace tentatively, careful not to jostle his head or the shoulder that's starting to throb. "Are you hurt?"

Dean doesn't answer, and Cas can feel him shaking against his neck. He runs a hand down Dean's back soothingly. "Dean, you're worrying me. What's wrong?"

Dean squeezes him one more time, then pulls away slightly. "I can't lose you, Cas. Not again. I just-- I can't."

"It's just a bruise, Dean.  I'll heal. And--" Cas smiles. "--and now I know to remember to watch out for things behind me, as well."

Dean shakes his head. "You shouldn't have to. I should have been watching out for you guys."

Cas frowns. "Dean, you can't hold yourself responsible for this. I'm not a child." He reaches out and takes Dean's hands in his. "I can make my own decisions, and be responsible for my own actions." He thinks back to Dean's statement. "And Sam can, too."

Dean fits careful hands around Cas's head, avoiding his injured area, and kisses him gently. Cas returns the kiss, sliding his hands up and down Dean's arms. "I'm all right, Dean," he says, pulling away and resting his forehead against Dean's.

Dean nods. "Yeah. Okay. You'd better be."

Cas smiles. "Let’s go home."


	11. Making Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 11 - Making Out

It’s become a ritual of sorts, these last few weeks. The idea originally had been to get Cas more up-to-date on pop culture by watching a different movie every Friday night.

At first it was the basics, like Star Wars and Terminator and (one night when Sam was away) Mean Girls and Clueless.

Now they’ve moved on to a wider selection: not just things that every twenty-first century human should know, but Sam and Dean’s favorites as well. By unspoken agreement they’re avoiding Disney movies; too many have themes that resonate just a little too much with their own stories (Sam still hasn’t quite been forgiven for the Little Mermaid incident).

Tonight the routine’s a little different, though. For the first time since Dean and Cas started their whatever-this-thing-is, they aren't all home for Friday night. Sam's visiting Jody Mills in Sioux Falls, and nobody's visiting for once. It's just Dean and Cas, in the bunker, alone.

Dean makes burgers, his specialty. Cas makes a salad and digs a bottle of wine out of the bunker's dusty cellar. They eat on the couch, plates on their knees, thighs and shoulders brushing as they sit together.

Dean eats most of his salad and claims it’s to please Cas, but both know he's starting to enjoy arugula and fennel.

Cas has no qualms about sharing his enjoyment of the burger.

The movie's not important; something about a man and a woman and Dean's pretty sure there's a car chase in there, or maybe someone running through an airport, but he's not really watching all that closely.

Instead, he's watching the angel beside him, who's completely captivated by the plot.

Dean feels a little like he's in the seventh grade again, out on a date with Jenny Smith or Kathy Waters or Sally Thompson in some small town somewhere in the Midwest.its that same feeling of anticipation and nerves and it's ridiculous, because he's Dean Winchester, he's thirty six years old and this is _Cas_. Not to mention the fact that he's in his damn house (well, bunker), not a shabby theatre in Oklahoma.

He stretches, dropping an arm around Cas's shoulders, and Cas tears his eyes from the movie to turn to Dean and smile, and Dean gives up on trying to be cool.

Cas leans in, curling against him, and Dean grins and leans in close. "Hey Cas."

Cas has turned back to the movie, but he focuses back on Dean. "Yes, Dean?"

"You wanna try another human tradition?" Dean runs his hand up and down Cas's arm, pulling him closer.

Cas narrows his eyes and starts to pull away. "Is this a tradition like the 'cinnamon challenge'?"

Dean smirks. "No, you'll enjoy this one. I promise."

Cas still looks suspicious, but relaxes back against Dean. "What is it?"

Instead if answering, Dean leans in close, pressing his lips to Cas's cheek and whispering, "making out during a movie, Cas."

A flush is rising in Cas's cheeks at Deans breath in his ear, and he whispers back, "that is a tradition I think I'll enjoy."


	12. Ice Cream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 12 - Ice Cream

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uhhh this was super rushed, sorry - wasn't feeling the prompt at all! I promise the next one will be nice and long!

It had been Sam that had come up with the brilliant plan for the afternoon. _“Dean, he needs to try it! Dean, it’s a fundamental part of the human experience! Dean, it'll go great with that apple pie you make!"_

Fucking Sam and his ideas.

Turns out Jimmy Novak had been lactose intolerant, or allergic to ice cream or some shit. And now Dean’s stuck with an angel who’s got his first stomach ache and is really not taking it well.

“Dean, I don’t like this.” Cas is pale, clutching his stomach as Dean hands him a glass of water. “This is very unpleasant.”

Dean rubs a hand over his back. “I know, buddy. It sucks.”

“Are you sure I don’t need a doctor?”

Dean stifles a laugh. “Yeah, Cas. It’s just a stomach ache. If it’s not gone in the morning, we’ll call Charlie and have her set you up with insurance and stuff.”

Cas nods, handing Dean the empty glass and falling back on the bed.

Dean lies down beside him, pulling him in close until Cas’s head rests on his collarbone and his arm wraps around Dean’s waist. “Sometimes being human just sucks, Cas.”

Cas nods, rubbing his nose in the patch of skin that peeked through the V of Dean’s shirt.

“Next time we’ll try sorbet, all right? No milk in that.” Dean’s drowsy, lulled by Cas’s warmth and his heartbeat against Dean’s own. Cas is relaxing as well, the heat of Dean’s body soothing the ache in his belly.

Dean presses a sloppy kiss to Cas’s forehead. “You doing better?”

When there’s no response, he drags his eyes open to look down at the former angel.

Cas is fast asleep.

Dean settles down, tightening his arms around Cas.

_Yeah,_ Dean thinks as he drifts off,  _I guess this evening turned out okay after all._


	13. Wearing Different Clothes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 13 - Wearing different clothes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is late, folks. I had a rough week.
> 
> (Note: this is set around the time of the Day 1 fic)

Sam would like to think that he knows his brother better than anyone.

He’s watched Dean with more women than he can count over the years, from nameless women in bars across the midwest to Dean’s casual happiness with Lisa and his deep bond with Cassie.

But still, Sam’s never seen Dean like this.

They’re on a case, their first as a team of three since Cas joined them as a full-time human. Cas has worked cases with them before, of course, but always as a human, and always in Jimmy Novak’s ill-fitting suit and trenchcoat.

Now he’s in the suit he and Dean bought in the last town they stopped in. It’s cut close to the lines of his body, showing off his surprisingly muscled build, and even his tie is fastened properly.

And Dean? Dean can’t stop staring. Every time Sam turns around, Dean’s eyes are focused on Cas’s face, or his arms, or–Jesus–his ass.

Sam’s learning a lot more about his brother than he expected on a case about ectoplasm.

And he’s not an idiot. He’s been watching Dean stare at Cas and Cas stare at Dean for years now, and he’s really, really hoping that they’ll figure themselves out sometime soon. Just watching the amount of pining they do is exhausting.

He knows they’ve had moments where it’s almost come out, this _thing_ they’ve got between them. God knows he’s asked Dean about it a few times, but Dean clams up immediately and Sam can’t get a word out of him for hours, just scowls and black looks.

But now Sam wonders if maybe something happened years ago between his brother and the fallen angel and he just– missed it or something.

Because what other explanation could there be?

The investigation is moving along nicely when they break for lunch. Sam finishes his salad quickly and gets up to head to read the historical plaques lining the street. Dean and Cas stay at the picnic table outside the burger joint, sitting on a bench in their fancy clothes leaning close over a burger and ignoring the grease that’s in danger of staining their FBI-white shirts. The burger’s Dean’s but Cas is stealing fries from him plate and Dean’s letting him. Dean has the dopiest smile Sam’s ever seen on his face and even Cas is smiling, small and private and only for Dean.

Dean rests a hand on Cas’s shoulder and it lingers there, the fallen angel leaning into the touch.

Sam thinks maybe his research can take a few more minutes, and wanders back towards the bookstore he’d passed earlier. He’d give them ten more minutes.

Spying a dusty set of books with leather bindings and odd markings in the bag, he speeds up. _Maybe fifteen minutes._

 


	14. Morning Rituals

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 14 - Morning Rituals

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is not at all what the prompt was for but I don't particularly care. It's in the morning at least. Does that count?

Cas wakes up with a start, gripped by the thought that something in the bunker is different. He glances around the room, taking in the familiar walls and display of weapons and bookshelf. Nothing’s changed there.

He turns to Dean, still fast asleep beside him. He looks the same as usual, drooling slightly and with his arms wrapped around a pillow. His chilled feet are pressed against Cas’s calves, and as Cas watches he shifts closer, throwing an arm across Cas’s stomach.

Cas smiles and presses a kiss to his forehead, nuzzling close to Dean. It’s rare that he wakes first, and he relishes the chance to watch Dean for a moment as he did back before he needed sleep just as much as Dean does. Finally, though, he slips out of the bed. Dean grumbles at the loss of the warm body beside his, but pulls Cas’s pillows into his arms as well and burrows back under the covers until only a tuft of hair sticks out.

He lingers for a moment, weighing the urge to join Dean in the warmth of the bed against the niggling feeling of unease in the pit of his stomach. Not for the first time, and certainly not for the last, he curses Metatron’s betrayal and his lack of grace. If there’s something not right, he should be able to sense it and hopefully even handle it before the Winchesters even become aware of the fact that there’s a problem.

Instead, he’s forced to deal with it the slow way. The human way.

He sighs and pulls on a pair of jeans and a shirt. He can already sense that this will be a frustrating day.

Cas pads out into the hallway, feet bare. The sound they make echoes in the empty hallway, but nothing seems out of place there either.

He frowns, dropping into his chair in the library. He’s annoyed and he’s frustrated and he’s not sure what to do.

Then he hears it.

It’s a small noise, almost a whimper, and it’s coming from–Sam’s room?

Standing at the door, Cas isn’t really sure what to do. Sam came in late from a solo case last night and hadn’t even stopped in to say hello before crashing. And Sam’s his friend, yes, but he’s not been in his room since Sam recovered from the trials. Sam seems to relish having privacy for the first time in his life, especially now that Dean and Cas are sharing a room across the bunker.

After a moment of hesitation, he hears the noise again, louder this time, and he gives in. What if it’s Sam? What if he’s hurt?

He knocks on the door and the noise changes to–a bark?

After a scuffle and a few moments, Sam’s door opens a few inches.

“Yeah?” Sam’s voice drifts through the crack.

“I heard a noise,” Cas says, not really sure how to proceed. “I wanted to make sure you were all right.” He shifts uncomfortably from foot to foot.

There’s another bark, and a growl from inside the room and Sam sighs, rubbing a hand over his face. “Guess you caught me out, huh.” It’s not a question.

“Sam, do you have a dog in your room?” Cas isn’t sure why he asks when he knows the answer.

“Yes, but–” Cas can see most of Sam’s face through the opening in the door, and he’s doing what Dean refers to as his ‘puppy eyes’, which Cas thinks is surprisingly appropriate to the situation, “–but she didn’t have anywhere to go, Cas! And she’s so little!”

Cas tries to peer around him. “May I meet her?” He's not sure of the etiquette around dogs and humans.

Sam opens the door to let him in, and a fluffy brown shape rushes past him and around Cas’s legs.

“No! Come back!” Sam rushes after her, and Cas rushes after him.

The chase leads them through the bunker, following the scrabbling sound of claws on concrete and wood, until–

“Shit.” Sam skids to a halt, panting, in front of Cas and Dean’s room. Cas had left the door slightly ajar, but now it’s wide open and the dog is looking extremely pleased with herself, sitting on the bed next to Dean. “Shit.”

Dean rolls, snorting, and wraps an arm around the dog. Sam and Cas hold their breaths, waiting for him to wake up and freak out on them, but nothing happens. The dog flops down and curls itself against Dean, closing her eyes.

Sam looks at Cas, and Cas stares back and shrugs. He’s got nothing against dogs– in fact, he spent a good deal of time with one while wandering to protect the tablet, and he grew strangely fond of it. Seeing the tiny puppy curled up with Dean makes something warm rise in his chest.

They can deal with the fallout later. For now, he’s going to go back to his slightly-fuller-than-usual bed and sleep for a few more hours.


	15. Spooning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 15 - Spooning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my god the fluff is overwhelming.

Cas is shivering under the thick blankets, face flushed and sweaty. He hasn’t been able to eat in more than a day and his fever has risen to 102 degrees.

Dean’s worried. It’s the first time Cas has been sick since becoming human and he doesn’t know what to do. He called Charlie and Cas has health insurance now, under the name Casper Robert Winchester, but Dean’s still not sure if they should take him to the hospital or a doctor or what.

“You okay?” He jumps a little as Sam’s voice sounds from closer than expected.

“Me?” Dean tears his eyes from the lump in the blanket that’s Cas and turns to Sam. “What do you mean?”

“Just–I know you’re worried. He’s going to be fine, Dean. It’s just a bug.”

Dean sighs. “Yeah, I know. I just–he’s never been sick before. Ever. We don’t know how he’ll react.”

“He’ll be fine, Dean.” Sam claps a hand on his shoulder. “With you mother-henning over him, he’ll be back on his feet in no time.”

Dean gives Sam the finger but his heart’s not in it. Sam snorts and heads down the hallway.

Dean stays in the doorway, staring at Cas. He’s shifted so his face and part of an arm peek out from the top of the comforter, and one bare foot dangles over the edge of the mattress at the bottom of the bed. His cheeks are still a bright pink and his hair is ruffled, standing out in all directions around his head.

Coming closer, Dean sees that Cas is shifting around, starting to wake. Dean sits on the edge of the bed and runs a gentle hand across Cas’s forehead. Cas’s eyes open to stare blearily at him, blinking.

“Hey, Cas.” Dean’s voice is soft. “How you feeling?”

Cas coughs, the sound small, and rasps, “I feel terrible.” He clutches the blanket more tightly around himself and looks up at Dean. “And I’m cold.”

Dean smiles at Cas’s petulant tone and rearranges the blanket until Cas’s feet are both securely covered. “Anything you need?”

Cas reaches a hand out, wrapping shaking fingers around Dean’s wrist. “Stay with me?”

Dean’s torn. On the one hand, Cas is almost out of water and he’s going to have to go get him another dose of tylenol in less than an hour.

On the other hand, Cas is looking at him beseechingly and he’s real hard to resist.

Dean sighs and stretches out next to Cas, pulling the former angel into his arms. “Just for a little bit, okay?”

Nodding into Dean’s chest, Cas closes his eyes once more.

\-----

An hour later, Sam wanders down the hall to check on them and smiles when he sees that the lump in the bed has doubled in size.


	16. Doing Something Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 16 - Doing Something Together

“You gotta pre-rinse ‘em if there’s blood, but most other things will come right out if you use enough bleach.” Dean hands him a shirt covered in god-knows-what and Cas places it carefully in the washing machine. “Most of our stuff can go in the regular cycle, but the fed suits are dry-clean only.” He sets aside the suit pants and jacket. “We’ve got pretty much nothing that’s delicate cycle, and that’s on purpose, so make sure you check the tag when you buy something to make sure. Delicate cycle’s a pain in the ass.” He hands Cas a shirt, and he pulls out the tag, examining it closely.

There’s a row of symbols there, triangles and trapezoids and wavy lines, and Cas wonders if he would have been able to interpret it back when he had the angelic power to read every language. He assumes not. Humanity has a way of complicating things so only they can understand them. _Or, I suppose, we,_ he thinks wryly, tucking the shirt in the washer.

They’re sitting in a laundromat in Holdrege, NE. It’s the nearest to the bunker they could find, despite being almost two hours’ drive away. They’d tried to use the washer in the bunker, but between the lack of a dryer and the 30s era machine it hadn’t gone well. So now they’ve just driven across state lines in an overflowing Impala to finally get some clothes washed. And as Dean had said repeatedly on their drive over, two hours in a car with three men’s dirty laundry is pretty much the worst.

But Cas likes laundry, he decides. It’s soothing and rhythmic and things go from dirty to clean and he’s going to be the one to make that happen today.

And he likes that all their clothes mix together in one machine, indistinguishable unless you look at the sizes. It’s a tangle of jean and plaid and dark tees and neutral henleys and it’s like a uniform, saying _we are the same. We are together. We are a group, a tribe, a family_.

Dean smiles at him as the last shirt is stuffed in the edge of the machine. “Looks like that’s all we can get in this one. See if there’s another free washer, will you, Cas?”

Cas stands, peering into each machine in the line. Each swirls with a different mix: the first, set to delicate, has women’s undergarments and fancy blouses in pinks and blues and deep reds. The second has sheets, each with a different pattern: one with leaping dogs, another with characters from Star Wars, and a third with owls and frogs and deer on a background of forest. Another washer has t-shirts, each from a different event: _Keep Kansas Clean 1997, Anti-Litter Brigade 2009, Save the Turtles 2004_. With them is one lone, blue sock.

He wonders about these people, into whose lives he seems to have been given a brief window. What reason do they have to be doing laundry at 11 pm on a Wednesday? What are their lives like? Who are they? Once, he would have known in an instant their life stories and their hopes and dreams and fears. Now he must rely on the subtle clues they leave in their belongings.

He finally comes to an empty washer, and begins the process of loading it. It’s sheets and towels this time, and Cas smiles at the memory of waking up in Dean’s arms this morning.

He turns to the other man, and finds Dean already watching him with a fond look on his face. Cas smiles back, shoves the last towel in the machine, pours in the detergent, sets the dial and presses start.

Warm arms wrap around him from behind, blueberry breath in his ear, and he leans back into Dean’s embrace.

Some days being human isn’t all that bad.


	17. Formal Wear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 17 - Formal Wear

Dean smiles as he straightens Cas’s tie. So much has changed lately, what with the angels falling, Cas becoming human, and the new evolution of their relationship that sometimes Dean feels a little dizzy. Seeing Cas in a suit again, looking for all the world like the angel who walked into that warehouse six years ago, is spreading a warm, familiar feeling through him.

“Are you certain the knife will be on display, Dean?” Cas asks, handing Dean his suit jacket.

Dean nods his thanks, slipping the jacket over his shoulders. “Yeah, it should be. It just got announced as part of the auction yesterday and apparently it’s a big deal. People flying in from all over the world, Charlie says.” He snorts as he tightens his tie. “Kansas City’s gonna be overrun with rich European collectors. The town won’t know what hit it.”

\-----

Four hours later the knife’s secure, no one saw them, and everyone’s still alive. It’s a good night. Sam calls in from Jody’s, where he’s monitoring the internet and phone chatter about the auction, and gives them the all-clear. Looks like the mystery of what happened to the ancient Kurdish ritual dagger unearthed in the fields of Missouri might never be solved.

So it’s been a good night. Dean’s happy: happy to be alive, happy to be heading home, happy to have a second demon-killing knife, finally, and especially happy to have his very own fallen angel sitting beside him, tie flipped and shirt rumpled and looking for all the world like he stepped right out of one of Dean’s most hidden fantasies circa 2009. Only, this time...

Dean pulls over, turning off the car.

“Is something wrong, Dean?” Cas is staring at him with those goddamned navy eyes, head tilted to one side, eyes narrowed and Dean can’t fucking take it any more.

“Yeah.” He reaches out a hand and wraps it around Cas’s blue ( _fuck_ ) tie. “Yeah, something’s definitely wrong.”

Cas blinks at him, flush rising in his cheeks as Dean pulls a little harder on the tie.

“You’ve been wearing that suit for almost six hours and I haven’t gotten you out of it yet.”

Cas smiles, a slow, secret grin that Dean could definitely get used to. It doesn’t exactly fit in his fantasy of deflowering virgin angel Cas, but hell. Reality’s better than fantasy anyway, and Cas has learned a few tricks since then that Dean would be real sad to see go.

“Would you like me out of it?” Cas leans closer, sliding along the bench seat towards Dean. “I had thought you were enjoying the change of outfit.”

Dean can’t hold back any longer. He yanks the tie, thrilling at the feeling of Cas giving in to the pressure and moving towards him until their sides are pressed together from hip to shoulder. He doesn’t release his grip on the tie even once Cas’s face is inches from his, instead pulling him into a rough, needy kiss.

Cas moans against him, so low Dean feels it more than hears it. Dean drops the tie and pulls at Cas’s shoulders, trying to get closer, and suddenly feels himself being yanked up and onto Cas’s lap. _Being manhandled should not be so fucking hot_ , he thinks blurrily, as his dick twitches from vaguely interested to well over half-hard and his body presses against Cas’s groin.

Cas runs quivering hands over Dean’s thighs where they press against either side of his hips up to his ass, where he squeezes gently and presses Dean further down against him.

Dean groans and mouths down Cas's neck, tugging aside his abused tie and throwing it to the back seat. He pulls at Cas's buttons as the former angel pulls Dean's shirt from his pants, sliding hands under the starched fabric to brush heated skin.

Cas's fingers have managed to open Dean's fly without him even noticing and he starts a little when palms slide into his boxers and cup his bare ass. The movement presses him against Cas sharply and both groan, Cas's head dropping against Dean's shoulder as he sets a rough rhythm of thrusts. Dean is close, embarrassingly close for grinding like teenagers in the front seat, but he can tell Cas isn't that far behind by the flush in his cheeks and the pants echoing in his half-open mouth against Dean's neck.

Dean slides his hands down to mirror Cas's, slipping into his waistband and kneading a handful of ass. He rubs his body against the angel’s, sliding a finger down his crack to brush his hole and that's it for Cas, who comes with a moan of Dean's name and a hot flood across Dean's stomach. Dean follows a moment later, pushed over the edge by Cas running his tongue along the curve of Dean's ear and whispering, _I want to feel you come, Dean_ , into his ear.

They stay there panting in the seat, Cas's hands running slowly up and down Dean's back under the shirt, until Dean's thighs start to cramp. He presses a kiss to Cas's temple and slides off, grimacing at the mess they've made of their FBI suits.

He'll get Cas to take the dry cleaning in this time, he decides. Nothing embarrasses Cas, and he really doesn't feel like explaining the massive come stains to the cleaner.

He looks up from where he's slouched against the door to see Cas smiling at him, a big broad grin.

"I think I'll wear the trenchcoat next time."

Dean groans and leans up to kiss him quiet.


	18. Dancing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 18 - Dancing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HUGE THANKS to deancasnsam-tfw for the dog name and to tundraeternal as always for a FABULOUS BETA JOB.

 

It’s another late night in the bunker. Sam and Dean sprawl on either end of the couch, with Leia flopped on her belly in between them. The puppy’s chewing some sort of stuffed animal she found in the bunker and Sam and Dean are laughing about some stupid prank Dean pulled when they were kids. Cas is sitting at the table with Jody thumbing through a book on witches. Kevin, Garth and Charlie are playing Magic: The Gathering sprawled out on the floor of the library while Linda drinks a glass of wine and types something on the computer, pointing out patterns and omens to Krissy and Josephine.

It’s calm and quiet and Dean feels a sense of contentment, of family, that he hasn’t really felt much in his life. Most of the living people he cares about are in this room, safe, content and healthy, and Dean’s grateful. Houses of the Holy is playing softly on the ancient turntable and the smell of the lasagna he’d baked for dinner lingers in the air

Every few weeks they do this: call up their network of hunters, prophets and friends and bring them together for a night that doesn’t involve killing something. Dean makes dinner for five or six or eight or ten, they catch up, they trade information and stories and they always stay the weekend. Sometimes they all rent a movie or play a game. On one memorable occasion when it was just Dean, Cas, Garth, Charlie and Krissy the five of them ended up in an epic war with homemade marshmallow guns.

But tonight’s a mellow night. Dean can see Sam dozing a little, his head dropping then jerking upright, and he thinks that soft sound is either Josephine or Charlie snoring. Even Linda’s looking a bit more relaxed, letting down her guard and smiling gently at her son where he’s listening intently to Charlie’s explanation of a new creature ability in the game. Kevin’s looking better, and so is Sam, and Dean’s grateful for a lot of things.

Cas is focused where he’s reading with Jody, pointing out errors in the text and making notes in the margins. Jody’s smiling at him and at one point even reaches out and ruffles his hair.

Charlie pulls herself upright, stretching, and mumbles something about heading to bed. There are enough rooms in the bunker that Dean can’t imagine ever running out, despite the number of strays they’ve picked up over the last few years, and he’s glad that others have the opportunity to make a space their own in this safe place, just as he has. Cas in particular has thrived in his room, despite rarely sleeping there; he’s turned it into a combination library-training-room-art space where he can go and be alone and learn and work. Dean doesn’t go in there much, knowing Cas is enjoying having privacy for the first time in, well, ever.

Charlie’s departure seems to serve as a sort of signal for the assembled folks in the library. Krissy and Josephine are next to go; they’ve got adjoining rooms near Charlie’s, far away from Aiden, Dean made sure. The two of them pass Jody and she yanks them both into a quick hug; the sheriff’s become fond of the three of them since they resettled in Nebraska just a few hours from her. She checks in almost as often as Dean does, and Dean suspects she might even be a more welcome presence since they’ve got no unsettling associations with her the way they do with Sam and Dean.

Kevin heads off too, kissing his mother on the cheek and waving a goodnight to Dean and Sam and everyone. He’s applying to Kansas State in the fall, trying to get himself back on track. He says he’ll still hunt, but he doesn’t want it to be his life. Dean hopes it works out for him. Somebody’s gotta get out of the life, after all.

Linda, on the other hand, who takes her computer with her as she heads to her own room, is in this life for good, Dean thinks. She’s taken to hunting like a duck to water and she loves it the way Dean loves it and the way Sam never will.

Garth and Jody are the last to go, followed by Sam, who tells Cas and Dean not to stay up too late because they’ve got plans for the morning. Dean nods and shoos Leia after him, her tail wagging as she drags the ragged stuffed bear she’s been chewing along with her.

Finally it’s just him and Cas, and Cas moves to stand behind the couch as the record flips and the next drops.

It’s one of the records from the original inhabitants of the bunker, an old Sinatra album Dean remembers faintly from his childhood. Mary had been fond of Zeppelin and AC/DC and all the music Dean usually listens to, but every once in a while, when she was feeling quiet and it was late at night, music like this would drift from the speakers in the living room as she sipped a glass of wine and told Dean stories about dragons and princesses and magic. Dean wonders if she thought somehow, deep down, that she was preparing him to be a part of the hunting world–her world–some day.

Cas smiles at him, reaching out a hand towards Dean.

“I remember this man,” he says quietly, as Dean takes his hand. “He fascinated the country for many years. He was loved and hated but he inspired strong emotion across the population.” He pulls on Dean’s hand until he stands, and Cas leads him to the open space in the middle of the library. “I watched humans listen to him and I often wished I could feel what they did.” He pulls Dean close, wrapping an arm around his waist and keeping the other clasped firmly around Dean’s. “Will you dance with me, Dean? Show me why humans do this?”

Dean’s feeling swept away by the wine and the music and the friends and the whole evening, and can’t do much more than nod and lean against him as Cas begins to sway to the music. He smiles as the voice begins singing and he realizes which song they’re dancing to.

_There's a saying old, says that love is blind_

_Still we're often told, "seek and ye shall find"_

_So I'm going to seek a certain lad I've had in mind_

_Looking everywhere, haven't found him yet_

_He's the big affair I cannot forget_

_Only man I ever think of with regret_

_I'd like to add his initial to my monogram_

_Tell me, where is the shepherd for this lost lamb?_

_There's a somebody I'm longin' to see_

_I hope that he, turns out to be_

_Someone who'll watch over me._

 

Cas murmurs in his ear, “I understand this, Dean.”

Dean nods. He thinks he finally does too.


	19. Cooking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 19 - Cooking

Dean usually does the cooking in the bunker, so he’s surprised to wake up to the smell of something delicious the next morning. He runs through the last of suspects in his mind. The most likely is Jody, but there's definitely sausage in the mix and Jody's a bacon kind of girl. Could be Sam, but no, again with the sausage. Sam's gone vegetarian or some shit, something about cleansing his body. It's not Linda either, or Kevin; dean can smell blueberry pancakes and neither Tran is a fan of them. Charlie is a disaster in the kitchen so he hopes its not her, and Garth never makes normal food when he cooks, just shit like avocado waffles and radish-infused bacon. It's unnatural.

He reaches for Cas, planning shake him awake to come investigate and his heart drops in his chest when all he finds is cold empty blanket. Cas wouldn't just leave, would he?

He sits up, checking the room for-- well, he's not even really sure what, but he lets out the breath he's been holding at the site of Cas's shoes, all three pairs, lined up by the door. All that's missing are his slippers, and that's when Dean realizes just who must be in the kitchen cooking right now and panics a little.

It's not that he doesn't trust Cas, that's not it at all. He trusts Cas with his life, with Sam's life. He's just-- nervous, he decides. Cas has only been human a few months and in all that time he's never cooked, only watched Dean and cleaned up the messes afterwards. He'd planned to, once, but that had been the day with the butcher or whatever and they'd gotten too distracted to ever actually make the chicken piccata. Dean smiles a little at the memory, glad they've figured their shit out enough that he wakes up with Cas in his arms these days.

Well, most of these days, anyway.

He yanks on pants and a shirts, cursing under his breath as he gets tangled in the pants and trips. He finally makes it out the door, jogging down the hallway, and--

Skids to a halt when he sees the kitchen is full of people eating. Everyone's up, and sitting in chairs or leaning against counters and there's his angel in the middle of it all, serenely flipping pancakes and tossing sausages in a pan.

Dean knows he's staring, mouth open, as Cas fills a plate and holds it out to him, smiling.

"Good morning, Dean," Cas says quietly, and smiles wider as Dean stammers a greeting and stares at the plate.

"I, uh, I didn't know you could cook, Cas. This looks really good." Dean stares at the perfectly browned pancakes on his plate.

"It's a matter of following instructions, Dean. That's all." He frowns and drops another sausage onto Dean's plate. "And you may not recall, but this isn't the first time I've cooked for you, Dean. Remember the sandwiches?"

Dean does remember. He remembers Cas looking lost, and trying to protect them from Leviathan without compromising his new principals by bringing them food free from the taint of Roman Industries. It had been a strange gesture, and at the time it had just made Dean feel more useless and like they were going to fail, but now the memory brings a smile to his face. "Yeah, Cas. I remember." He wraps his free arm around Cas roughly, kissing his temple, then grabs a fork and digs in, ignoring the jeers of the assembled group of hunters.


	20. In Battle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 20 - In Battle, Side By Side

“You’re in a tavern. It’s late at night and the man you’re meeting seems to be the one sitting in the back corner with a tankard of beer. What do you guys want to do?” Charlie looks up at Dean, Kevin and Cas.

Dean speaks first. “Uh, is he a big guy?”

Charlie smirks. “Yeah. Much bigger than your halfling lady.”

“Hey, she looked bigger in the picture! How was I supposed to know she’d be three feet tall?” Dean asked, defensive.

“Uh, I dunno, read the description instead of just deciding she’s the hottest?” Sam’s watching from the next table over, pretending not to be interested.

Dean makes a face at his brother and picks up his character sheet, scanning it.

They’re playing D&D on a Sunday afternoon. It’s 3rd edition because Charlie said it’s the best one, and they’ve finally made it to the actual game after two hours of character creation. Dean’s a halfling rogue, 3’2” with a riding dog and a dexterity of 19. Kevin’s a half-orc barbarian with a greataxe and questionable literacy skills, and Cas decided on a human ranger with a bow, a set of silver daggers and a wolf familiar.

“Perhaps we should speak to him?” asked Cas. He’s still not really sure the purpose of this game. Dean has explained it as ‘LARP for kids with asthma,’ but that didn’t clear anything up particularly well. “Dean? Kevin?”

Kevin shrugs and makes a roll, frowning. “Yeah, my orc doesn’t get what happening.” Kevin had not done particularly well on the character rolls. His orc, after racial modifiers, has an intelligence of 5 and a wisdom of seven. That’s balanced in some ways by a strength of 20 and a constitution of 17, but he’s not much help in social situations.

Dean leans back, grinning. “Go ahead, Cas. You can be in charge of this one.”

Cas nods and turns to Charlie. “I walk up to him and ask him if he’s Tondor.”

Charlie makes a roll behind her screen. “He narrows his eyes and asks who wants to know.”

“I am Roger, a ranger of Moondor. My company was told Tondor had a quest.”

“Yeah? And who else is in this company of yours?”

Cas squints at the other character sheets. “I point them out and tell him they’re Balrog and Nikita. and that we’ve traveled far to find him.”

“He nods and tells you to meet him outside in ten minutes and he’ll explain the quest.”

Satisfied, Cas nods.

Dean stretches in his seat. “I feel like we should have cheetos. That’s traditional, right?”

Charlie grins. “Check the kitchen, dude. Might even be some Mountain Dew there too.”

“Awesome.” Dean stands. “Cas, you wanna come with? I think we have some of those meatball things from Ikea you liked.”

The two of them head to the kitchen and Dean grins as he finds the giant bag of cheetos and the case of Mountain Dew. Cas takes out the bag of meatballs from the freezer and carefully lines a baking sheet with tin foil and preheats the oven.

“You having fun, Cas?” Dean slips a hand in his belt loop, yanking him close.

Cas leans against him, sliding arms around Dean’s waist. “It’s always good to see Charlie and Kevin. And the game seems to be mostly probability and strategy, both things I enjoy.” He nuzzles Dean’s neck. “But there are other things I’d enjoy more right now, Dean. Things that don’t involve other people, or dice.”

Dean snorts, pressing fingers under Cas’s waistband to brush the top of his ass. “Don’t knock it till you try it, dude. I’ve definitely had fun with both.”

Cas shakes his head, kissing Dean’s neck where it meets his shoulder. “I’d rather just have you, naked and in bed, Dean,” he whispers against Dean’s skin. “Preferably alone, and without any gaming equipment.”

Dean ducks to capture his mouth and kisses him through his grin. “Later, Cas. I promise.”

Someone clears their throat and rattles the Cheeto bag. “Ahem.” Charlie’s standing in the doorway, fond smile on her face. “I thought you guys might have gotten distracted. Come on, we’ve got a dragon to hunt!”

Dean kisses Cas one last time, then releases him. “Later,” he whispers as he brushes past Cas.

Cas smiles and follows.


	21. Bathing Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 21 - Bathing Together

It’s a Tuesday morning and they’re both up early, tangled together under the covers. They’ve got a hunt lined up, something in western Kansas that Linda Tran sent their way, but the ghost only strikes on the fifth of the month so they’ve got a couple days to do research. That means there’s no reason to move quickly this morning.

Cas stretches and yawns, pulling out of Dean’s warm embrace. Dean frowns and tries to grab at him and drag him back into bed, but Cas is slippery and surprisingly strong. Dean makes a frustrated noise and sits up, pulling the blankets around himself more tightly. He's found that no matter the temperature outside, it's always chilly in their room in the mornings.

And it’s a lot chillier when Dean’s alone in the bed.

“Caaaas...” he whines from his blanket cocoon. “Come back to bed.”

Cas shakes his head, grabbing a towel. “I’d like to shower before we need to begin our research. I thought of a few more avenues to explore last night, and I’d like to look them over before we leave.”

Dean pouts.

“Dean, stop that.”

Dean doesn’t.

“Really, Dean, you’re acting like a child. And not a very well-behaved one at that.”

Dean changes tactics, leaning back against the bed and letting the blanket slip down his body and running a hand over his chest. The cold air has hardened his nipples into tight peaks and he brushes a finger against one, making his body twitch.

Cas is still trying to gather things for his shower. Despite the bathroom being only about three feet from their bedroom, Cas insists on bringing his clothes in with him and changing in the bathroom ever since the day when Sam came home unexpectedly and got an eyeful. So Cas is now trying to pick out clothes for the day while Dean continues to lay spread out on the bed, naked from the waist up.

Dean runs his hand a little further down, the blanket sliding with him, until his hips are bare and there’s the smallest hint of hair at the edge of the blanket. Cas is still half-heartedly looking for a clean shirt, but Dean estimates that sixty, maybe seventy-five percent of his attention is now firmly on Dean’s hand that’s making its way even lower, towards the quickly lengthening bulge in the blanket. As his hand brushes the base of his cock, Dean gasps a little, closing his eyes and throwing his head back.

A second later, a firm hand descends on his wrist and a low voice growls in his ear, “Dean Winchester. I am going to shower, and you are coming with me. Now.”

Dean grins as blood rushes south. This wasn’t what he intended, but he’s not really going to complain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This will be continued in tomorrow's, I promise :)


	22. Gazing into Each Other's Eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 22 - Gazing into Each Other's Eyes

They stumble to the bathroom, Dean’s eyes fixed on Cas’s face and Cas’s hand still tightly gripping Dean’s wrist, dragging him forward.

Dean would never admit it, but he really, really likes when Cas gets all take-charge.

The second the door is closed, Dean finds himself pressed against the wall, Cas’s flashing blue eyes inches from his own.

“Are you trying to get me excited, Dean?” Cas’s voice is still that low rumble that Dean can feel in his bones.

Dean shivers and stretches towards Cas, fitting their mouths together firmly and sliding his arms down the former angel's firm back. "Is it working?" He is when they separate for a breath.

Cas just growls and presses a thigh between Dean's, grinding against him until he's nearly lifted up the wall. Dean grips Cas's ass, pressing their bodies even more closely together. Dean's still sleep-warm, pliant against Cas, and he mouths down Cas's neck, nipping at the underside of his jaw. Through the skin of Cas’s throat, he hears the former angel’s low chuckle as a vibration through his lips.

“Are you ready for a shower, Dean?” Cas’s voice is low and quiet, rasping against Dean.

Dean groans, grinding against Cas, and stumbles against him when he’s suddenly released from being pressed to the wall. Cas grips his wrist again and drags him towards the shower, fumbling backwards for the handle without taking his eyes from Dean’s or his hand from Dean’s wrist.

"Come here, Dean," he orders, pulling him firmly forward and stepping backwards into the spray.

Dean hesitates, taking a moment to let his eyes trail over Cas. The angel's skin is bronzed, outlining firmly muscles pecs and shoulders and thighs. The trails of water outline his hips, curling around the bones and disappearing into the thick thatch of hair. His cock is standing tall, curing towards his belly and flushed at the head. Steam curls around him and Cas tugs again.

Dean steps forward into the shower, pressing the length of his body against Cas's as he feels the drizzle and steam dampen his hair. He wraps his hands around Cas’s neck and Cas strokes his thumbs across Dean’s waist, sliding his hands around until they clasp at the dip of Dean’s lower back. Dean smiles against Cas’s neck, whispering, “This is better than showering alone, right, Cas?”

Cas nods and presses a kiss to Dean’s cheek. “Definitely better.” He slides his hands down to cup Dean’s ass, kneading lightly. Dean buries his hands in Cas’s hair, kissing along his shoulder.

“Dean, I do actually need to shower,” chides Cas breathlessly after a moment, pulling away.

Grabbing the shampoo, Dean smiles and squirts a generous amount into his palm. “I can help with that.”

Cas squints at him a moment, unsure if Dean is making a joke, but when Dean’s hands start running the lather through his hair his eyes drift shut and he lets out a shaky breath. He leans his head forward, resting his forehead on Dean’s shoulder, and Dean chuckles. “Can’t wash your hair like that, dude.” He massages the shampoo in, stroking his hands along Cas’s head, and Cas leans his head back. Dean smiles, still rubbing the shampoo through Cas’s hair, and peppers kisses down Cas’s neck. Turning them both, Dean backs Cas into the spray, cupping a hand over his forehead to keep the soap from running into his eyes as he strokes the other over Cas’s head.

The shampoo finally out, Cas opens his eyes and smiles at Dean, eyes and nose crinkling. “Dean, you make me very happy.” He leans forward and kisses a flustered Dean firmly. “I’d like to show you just how happy before we need to leave, if that’s all right.” He slides bonelessly to his knees, keeping his eyes wide and locked on Dean’s.

Dean’s speechless for a moment–this was not really how he expected this shower to go, but he’s really not complaining.

Still watching Dean, Cas reaches up and gives Dean’s cock one slow stroke, then another, then licks the head delicately. Dean jerks backwards, gasping, and throws a hand back to brace against the shower wall. The other comes to rest shakily on Cas’s head as Cas opens his mouth and wraps his lips around Dean’s cock, sinking down slowly and running his tongue along the veins on the underside of the shaft. Dean’s hand clenches in Cas’s hair, and he forces it to relax and unwind from the dark strands. The water beats against his back, running down his ass and along his crack and adding to the sensation as Cas begins to bob in earnest on his cock. He opens his eyes and through the droplets on his eyelashes he sees Cas, kneeling in front of him, and a fresh wave of arousal runs through him. The last straw is when he feels something bump against his knee and he realizes that Cas is jerking himself off as he sucks Dean’s cock, and with a groan and a tightening of his fingers on Cas’s head he comes down Cas’s throat.

Cas swallows nearly all of Dean’s come, a thin trickle running down his chin, and rests his forehead on Dean’s thigh as he comes with a shudder and a moaned “ _Dean!_ ”.

They stand there panting for a moment, Dean leaning against the wall, Cas leaning against Dean, before Dean pulls Cas upright and into a tight embrace, whispering, “Is that what you meant by come shower with you? Because if it is, I’ll join you anytime.”


	23. Arguing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 23 - Arguing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uhhh this didn't really go with the prompt (psst I don't caaaaaare)

"Cas!" Dean's voice is frantic as he sprints down the long hallway, dodging the end tables, chairs, and smashed paintings that line the walls. "Cas, where are you?"

He nearly crashes into Sam, who's coming out of one of the rooms. "Find him?"

Sam shakes his head and Dean continues, glancing in each room he passes for signs of the angel.

"Cas!" he calls, heart pounding. _He's gotta be okay. He's gotta be here somewhere. Please, let him be okay._ He's not sure who he's praying to but he can't help it.

"Dean!" The voice is faint, but definitely alive.

"Cas!" He speeds up again, heedless of the gems spread across the floor that crunch under his feet. He rounds a corner and trips on a body in a long tan coat and for a moment his heart stops--

"Dean." A hand falls on his bicep. "Dean, are you all right?"

Dean whips around, eyes wide, fist raised and it's as if his puppet strings have been cut as he freezes, then sags. "Cas." It's not a question or even a statement, not really more than a breath. "Cas, I thought--"

He can't finish the sentence, and sweeps Cas into a tight embrace. "You can't do that to me, man."

Cas raises his arms, returning the hug carefully. He's favoring his left side and winces as Dean's arms tighten.

"Shit, sorry!" Dean lets go, stepping back. "You got hit." He ghosts a hand down Cas's ribs, pressing gently. "Doesn't seem like anything's broken, though." He shakes his head. "Cas, what were you thinking, man?" His voice is rising but his hands are gentle as they check Cas for other injuries. "Why'd you just go charging in alone, man? You gotta wait for me, Cas, wait for backup! I can't-- I won't--" His voice breaks, and suddenly Cas breaks from his frozen gaping and he presses forward wrapping his arms around the shaking hunter.

"I'm sorry, Dean. I'm all right. I'm all right, I promise."

Dean's shivering, clutching Cas to his chest. "Can't lose you, Cas. Lost too damn many people. You've got to be careful. I-- I can't do this without you, Cas."

Cas nods. "Next time I'll wait, but Dean-- I can't always be backup. I need to help, too. I--" he takes a deep breath. "I may not be an angel anymore, but I'm not helpless." As he says it, he realizes that he actually believes it. He's not helpless; he has things to offer the team, and he can't just wait in the wings like Dean wants him to.

Dean laughs wetly, squeezing him tighter for a moment before releasing him. "I know, Cas. You're awesome. You're a hunter now. Just promise me you'll be more careful, all right?"

Cas nods, kissing Dean quickly as Sam's footsteps clatter towards them down the hall. "I promise."


	24. Making Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 24 - Making Up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Giant thanks to my tumblrwife Lily/drownedinblissfulconfusion/tundraeternal for basically handholding me through this one. It was ROUGH!

"Dean."

They're laying in bed after making to home from the hunt. They're both a little bruised, finally clean, and fucking exhausted. Dean is on the edge of sleep, curled against Cas's side, and really doesn't want to have the kind of conversation Cas's serious tone is indicating might be about to happen.

On the other hand, he knows Cas well enough by now to know that if he doesn't respond it's only delaying the inevitable, so he sighs loudly and opens his eyes, abandoning the quest for sleep for now.

"Yeah, Cas." He rolls onto his stomach and props himself up on his elbows beside the fallen angel.

“You need to be careful, too.”

“What?”

“You’re human.”

Dean’s not sure where this is going, and frankly just wants to sleep. “Yeah, I’m human. Always have been, just about. So?”

Cas rolls on his side to face him. “You worry I’ll be hurt.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I do.”

“I worry about you,too, Dean. I can’t heal you anymore.” Cas’s eyes are glittering in the near-darkness. “If you’re hurt, I can’t fix you.”

Dean’s silent, not sure what to say. Finally, he shakes his head. “I made it thirty years without you fixing me up, Cas. I’ll be fine.”

Cas’s eyes narrow. “I pulled you from _Hell_ , Dean. You were not _fine_.”

Dean sighs. It's late, and he's tired of having this conversation with Cas, with Sam, with Charlie and with everybody. He reaches out an arm and takes Cas's hand, watching their fingers intertwine in the dim moonlight from the window above them.

"Things were different then, Cas."

Cas doesn't respond, just watches him carefully, not letting him off the hook.

Dean scrubs his other hand over his face. "I'm not that guy anymore." He squeezes Cas's hand. "I've got stuff in my life now, stuff that's not just the hunt. I've got Sam, who's finally figuring out what he wants for his life and I don't need to be his parent anymore." He leans closer, shoulder brushing Cas's. "And I got you now, Cas. I've got somebody to come home to. So I'm careful now, because–" he steels himself for the emotions he knows he’s going to have to talk about– “because I love my life, and I love you, and I don’t want it to end because of some stupid fucking hunt. You understand?” He’s not looking at Cas; he can’t. But he feels a gentle squeeze on his hand.

“Yes, Dean.” Cas’s voice is barely a whisper. “I understand.” He pulls Dean close, wrapping his arms around the other man until his face is buried in Cas’s shoulder once more. Cas’s hand runs over Dean’s hair and he presses a kiss to Dean’s temple. “I understand that very well.”


	25. Sick

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 25 - Sick

It starts with a cough.

It’s just a little thing, dry and rasping on Dean’s throat for the first day.

Then Dean wakes up with a headache, pressure pounding on the inside of his skull like tiny hammers.

On the third day, he’s miserable.

He’s got a fever of nearly 100 degrees, his head feels like it’s filled with cotton and shards of glass, and his eyes are red and puffy and he can barely keep them open.

Sam takes one look at him as he shuffles out of the bedroom and orders him back to bed, not taking any arguments.

Dean turns around, secretly glad of the excuse to go back to sleep for a few hours or days or weeks, and curls miserably back under the blankets, shivering.

The next thing he’s aware of is a warm hand stroking over his hair as the blankets are tucked more firmly around him. He opens bleary eyes to meet clear blue ones just a foot from his own.

“Hello, Dean.” Cas is setting a glass of water on the nightstand and Dean’s not sure what’s going on.

“You shouldn’t be here, Cas,” he mumbles, sure of this at least. “You’ll get sick too.”

Cas frowns. “But then you’ll be sick and alone here.”

Dean shivers, pulling the blanket closer. “That’s okay. I don’t want you to feel this crappy tomorrow, Cas. Go hang out with Sam or something. I’m good.” He coughs into his arm.

Cas’s frown deepens. “Dean, if I were ill you wouldn’t leave me alone, would you?” When Dean doesn’t answer, Cas sighs. “I’m not going anywhere, Dean.” He cups a hand around Dean’s cheek, stroking his thumb across Dean’s sweaty cheekbone. “Let me take care of you.”

Dean wants to argue. He does. He wants to tell Cas to go, to stay healthy, that taking care of Dean isn’t worth his comfort and his health, but he’s warm and sleepy and Cas’s hand has moved back to his hair, and Dean falls back into sleep.

A minute or an hour or some unknown amount of time later, Dean wakes with a start. He’s cold and he’s alone in the room, and he’s dizzy and nauseous and his head hurts. _Of course Cas left_ , he thinks. _That’s good_. But he’s lonely and depressed and tries to tamp down the feelings until they don’t bother him anymore. _Don’t be such a girl, Dean Winchester_ , says a voice in his head that sounds surprisingly like John Winchester. _It’s just a damn cold. Suck it up. Be a man. You-_

“Dean?” the door opens a crack and his name is whispered. He struggles upright, rubbing a hand across his face to rid his eyes of what he’s sure is just sweat and moisture from being ill.

“Yeah,” he croaks. “I’m awake. What is it, Sammy?”

The door opens a little more and his brother’s shaggy head pops through. “Hey, Dean. How you feeling?”

Dean coughs, wincing as the movement makes his head pound. “Crappy.”

Sam looks sympathetic. “Cas said to tell you if you woke up that he’s gone to get some medicine and he’ll be back in an hour or so, okay?”

Dean grunts. “Don’t need a nursemaid.”

Sam shakes his head. “Just let somebody take care of you for once, all right?” Dean can see his frustration. “I’d be in there too, but-”

“You gotta stay out, Sam. Your immune system’s still shot to hell, I know.”

Sam nods and his face softens a little. “I’m glad you’ve got Cas taking care of you, though.”

Dean isn’t sure how to respond to that, so he just lowers himself back down and closes his eyes again. Somehow he’s sleepy again already.

He’s drifting warmly somewhere, comfortable and wrapped up and loved, and whatever that insistent noise is, it needs to stop so he can just drift here forever. He swats at it halfheartedly, and it resolves itself into a voice calling his name.

“Dean!” There’s a hand on his shoulder, shaking him gently. “Dean, are you all right?”

It’s Cas, and he sounds worried. Reluctantly, Dean drags himself upwards into consciousness and blinks awake. “Cas?” his voice is slurred and the room is spinning and really, really hot.

Something cool presses to his forehead: it’s a washcloth dipped in water.

“Dean, I need you to sit up and take this, all right?” Cas’s voice is strained, and Dean frowns.

“You’re not supposed to be here, Cas,” he mumbles. “Gotta stay away. Gotta be safe.” He follows where Cas leads, sitting upright. A glass is pressed to his lips and he takes a sip, then another. It’s wonderfully cold on his sore throat.

Something else is pressed to his lips and he opens obediently: it’s a pair of pills, bitter and chalky. He swallows reluctantly and gulps more of the water that follows.

He’s eased back down and just before he falls back into sleep, he feels a pair of lips press on his forehead, then his lips.

The next time he wakes he feels considerably better. The ache in his head has receded to just a slight pounding, no worse than a slight hangover, and his nausea is completely gone. When he opens his eyes, the room only sways once, then solidifies in front of him.

There’s a warm weight on his chest and he glances down.

It’s Cas, of course, fast asleep, head nestled into the crook of Dean’s shoulder and arm across Dean’s waist.

Dean smiles. He’s feeling better, yeah, but he can always sleep a little more.


	26. Getting Married

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 26 - Getting Married

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Definitely giving huge props to deans1911's The Way the War was Won on this one!)

Dean is tired of this. He's tired of waiting and being told that he's not family, that he can't be told anything. He's tired of hearing that they can't find anyone that can be considered Cas's next of kin. He's tired of this hospital, of this chair, of this goddamn fucking coffee and–

"Fuck!" He jumps up to pace again down the length of the small waiting room. "This is stupid, Sam. We're the only family he's got. Just because a piece of paper says we aren't doesn’t make a damn difference."

Sam starts awake from where he'd been dozing, giant body folded up on the plastic couch and head lolling against the wall. He glances around, wiping a trail of spit from his cheek, and focuses on Dean. He sighs and runs a hand through his hair. "He's gonna be fine, Dean. It's just a broken leg. Nothing Cas can't handle."

Dean drops back into his chair with a huff. "Yeah, I know. Cas is tough. It's just– it's his first time in a hospital, Sam. He shouldn't be by himself in there.

Sam reaches out a hand, claps it on Dean's shoulder. He opens his mouth, about to speak, when Dean's cell phone rings.

Dean fumbles it open with a gruff _yeah_? and he listens for a moment before his eyes widen and his mouth drops open. Dean's rarely speechless, and he can feel Sam's eyes on him.

"Yeah, I- yeah. That'd be great. Thanks, Charlie." He hangs up and stares at the phone.

Sam waits a moment before his curious lite overwhelms him. "What's up, Dean?"

"That was Charlie." Dean's still staring at his phone. "She, uh, she's on her way here."

"Okay?" Sam's not sure why that's so upsetting to Dean.

"She might have a way to get me in to see Cas." Dean still sounds detached and won't meet Sam's eyes.

"Yeah?" Sam prompts when it's clear Dean's not going to elaborate.

"She, uh– did you know she's ordained?" Dean finally looks up at Sam. "By some online church or something?"

"Um, no? That's cool, I guess?"

Dean glances back at the phone, then back up at Sam. There's something in his eyes that looks a little like panic. "She says she can come and get Cas and me–" he glances towards the hallway that leads to where Cas is being treated– "uh, get Cas and me married."

Sam drops his coffee.

"Dude!" Dean jumps back, avoiding the splash narrowly.

" _Married_?! Like, rings and vows and flower girls married?"

A bit of the lost look fades from Dean's eyes as a smirk spreads over his face. "Aw, Sammy, i was gonna ask you to be best man but you can be flower girl if you want."

"Seriously, Dean? Right now? Like, today?"

Dean glances at his watch. "She'll be here in half an hour, yeah. Just need you to distract the nurses for a few minutes while she does it. Turns out in Massachusetts you don't need a witness or anything."

Sam stares at his brother. "Have you and Cas talked about it? I mean, this is a big step, Dean."

"We, uh– well, sort of."

"What the hell's that mean?" Sam's getting a little annoyed and he's not sure why, but his heart is pounding and he can hear it in his ears. "How can you sort of talk about it?"

Dean's face shutters. "Just leave it, Sam." He crosses his arms, slumping back in his seat. "It just means we'll be able to see him if he's in the hospital again, ok? No more of this 'not family' bullcrap."

Sam nods, holding his hands up in surrender and they fall into silence. Sam sneaks glances at his brother every few minutes. Dean's staring down the hallway, sitting up in his chair every time a nurse walks their way and slumping down when they pass without saying anything.

Finally Dean's phone rings again and he flips it open. "Yeah. Fifth floor. See you soon." He slides it in his pocket and stands. "Charlie's here. Showtime, Sammy."

Sam stands as well, heading for the nurses' station. He wonders when distracting nurses became a normal part of his life and sighs, leaning against the counter with an open grin. Flirting with nurses is Dean's specialty (or it was, at least, before Hell and angels and Cas), but Sam thinks he's gotten pretty good at it in the last few years.

The elevator door opens with a swish and out pops Charlie, grinning, her hands full of folders and her laptop bag. Dean walks over to her, leaning close, and she yanks him into a quick hug. He holds her tightly for a moment then lets go.

"How's he doing?" She asks, glancing towards the patient rooms.

Dean sighs, rubbing a hand over his mouth and chin. "They won't tell us anything, Charlie. Nothing. So I don't know."

She nods and glances towards Sam, who's got three nurses all giggling as he tells some story. "Let's get going, then. Just like Star Trek IV. Except without the kidney pills."

Dean gives his first real smile of the evening and follows her as she ducks down and slips around behind a cart.

They make it to the door of Cas's room with no problem, just a few close calls with hospital personnel and supply closets. Charlie's focused on the mission, ducking and weaving like an expert, and Dean shoots a fond look her way. She's come a long way from the kid he tried to teach last year. She moves like a real hunter now.

He peers inside the room, hearing the beeping tones that assure him Cas is alive at least. The lights are off and in the bed he can see a shape under the covers, breathing slowly, and when Cas shifts Dean's at his side in a second.

Cas's eyes blink open slowly, focusing on Dean's face. "Dean?" He asks groggily, and Dean grins, reaching out to brush the hair from his face.

"Hey, Cas. How you doing, buddy?"

Cas turns his face into Dean's hand. "Glad you're here, Dean. Missed you." He starts to drift off again, and Dean strokes his cheek.

"Hey, hey, Cas, gotta stay awake. Charlie's here and we gotta make sure I can come back and see you without having to do all this sneaking around, okay?"

Cas opens his eyes again, lifting his head and spotting Charlie. He nods at her and she smiles, holding up the laptop and the folder.

Cas struggles upright, wincing as his newly cast-covered leg shifts. “Dean, what–”

Dean’s not sure when it happens, but suddenly he’s on one knee beside the bed, grabbing for Cas’s chilled hand with his sweating one. “Cas.”

Cas turns his blue stare on Dean, eyes wide with confusion. “Yes, Dean?”

“Do you want to–” he takes a deep breath and the words rush out in a jumble. “They wouldn’t let me see you, Cas. You were hurt and they said I wasn’t family. So– will you be my family? Officially? By, uh– by getting married? To me?”

Cas blinks. “Dean, I–”

Dean stands, pulling away. “Nevermind. It was a dumb idea. I’ll just–”

“Wait! Dean, Dean, yes, of course I will!”

Dean freezes, then turns back to Cas. “Yeah?”

Cas nods, and Dean sits unsteadily on the bed, cupping Cas’s face in his hands and kissing him fiercely.

After a few seconds, Charlie clears her throat. “Uh, guys, don’t wanna break up your moment but I don’t think Sam’s going to be able to hold the nurses off forever. Can you just sign this?” She hands them a piece of paper.

It’s a marriage license. There’s spots for each of them to sign, and Charlie’s messy scrawl has her current legal name and Boston, Massachusetts in the other blanks, along with the date.

Dean can’t help but grin as Cas picks up the pen and fills in ‘Castiel Winchester’ in the “Name after marriage” field. His hand shakes as he signs his own name and he stares for a moment at the completed form before handing it back to Charlie, who grins and pulls out the tiniest photocopier Dean’s ever seen. She makes a quick copy and slides the original back into a folder.

“I’m just gonna run  this to my friend at City Hall. She’ll backdate it so you guys will have been married since yesterday, and Dean should have no problem getting in.” She starts to leave, then turns around. “Oh, and the three of you are all legally alive, and your police records are clean. I also got rid of all the news I could find about the whole ‘serial killer’ thing. Call it an early wedding present.”

Dean stands and strides towards her, pulling her into a hug. “Thank you,” he whispers into her hair, and she smiles and hugs him back for a long moment. Then she pulls away and Dean turns back to Cas, sitting back down on the edge of the bed.

Cas’s brow furrows, and he reaches up and grips Dean’s shoulder, pulling him down until he’s laying on  the bed beside Cas, who then buries his face in Dean’s shoulder and promptly falls back asleep from the combination of the excitement of the impromptu wedding and from the massive amount of drugs in his system from his injury.

Dean just smiles and closes his eyes, listening to Cas’s breath even and slow.


	27. Birthday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 27 - Birthday

"Hey, Cas?" Dean's finally sorting through the paperwork Charlie had left them at the hospital in the library while Cas reads on the couch with Leia at his feet.

Cas marks his place in his book, sighing at the interruption. "Yes, Dean?"

Dean is holding their marriage license, tracing the filled blanks with a finger. Cas's eyes soften and he smiles.

"This says tomorrow's your birthday."

Cas frown. "I don't have a birthday, Dean."

"This says you do. September 18, 1978. Means you'll be thirty six tomorrow, legally." He glances up at his husband (and he's not sure that'll ever be not weird). "What?"

Cas is staring at him, book and dog forgotten.

"What is it?" Dean looks at the date again and lets out a shocked chuckle. "Son of a bitch. That's the day I came back, isn't it? The day you first tried to talk to me at the gas station?"

Cas nods. "It's the day I first took a vessel, as well. And the year is thirty years before that particular day."

Dean grins. "Have I mentioned how awesome Charlie is? I mean, how did she even know?"

"It's likely she found the correct month by working backwards from the gospels, and then cross referenced with weather conditions in the area or Jimmy's missing persons report."

Dean's face tightens a bit at the mention of Jimmy Novak, but he rallies quickly. "This is the first good thing that's come out of those damn books." He shakes his head, setting the license down carefully in its folder as Cas smiles and picks his book back up. “So.”

Cas looks up again with a sigh, finally deciding to just set the book aside. “Yes, Dean?”

“What are we doing for your birthday?”

“Dean, I don’t have a birthday.”

“You do now!” Dean’s grinning. “And it’s almost like a real birthday, you know? It’s the day you came to Earth.”

Cas tilts his head, considering. “I suppose you’re right.”

“So, it’s your first time having a birthday. We gotta do this right.” He stands and walks over to Cas, plopping down beside him and throwing an arm over his shoulder and pulling him close. “So, party? Presents? Cake?”

Cas smiles at him, eyes twinkling. “I believe I’d prefer pie, Dean.”

Dean laughs out loud and grabs Cas’s face in both hands, kissing him down onto the couch.

When Sam gets home an hour later, even the excuse of “We were celebrating! Cas has a birthday!” doesn’t stop him from threatening to buy a spray bottle.


	28. Something Ridiculous

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 28 - Something Ridiculous

Dean’s not sure how this got so complicated.

Cas’s first birthday as a human was going to be something simple: just them and Sam and a pie, and maybe a trip to the park to watch Leia chase the squirrels.

But somehow it’s morphed into this _thing_ that’s getting more complicated every second.

“Dean!” Sam calls from the library. “Can you come out here a second?”

Dean sighs and stands, lingering for a moment in the warm kitchen, but Sam calls again and he heads out.

Sam’s sitting at the table with a list, checking off names as he taps his fingers against the tabletop. “Okay. Jody and Charlie are coming. Kevin’s gonna try and get Linda to come out, too. Krissy and Aiden are definitely in, but Josephine’s got a final so might be late. Garth is dropping by in the evening, but he promised to leave Mr. Fizzles at home when I reminded him how much the puppet thing freaks Cas out.” He scans the list once more. “Am I missing anybody?”

“Uh, I don’t think so? Sam, is this for tomorrow? All this?” He gestures at the wrapping paper and streamers and candles strewn across the table.

Sam looks shocked. “Dean, it’s his _first birthday ever_. We’ve got to do this right.”

Dean sighs. If he’s feeling overwhelmed by this, he can’t imagine what it’ll be like for Cas. But maybe Sam’s right: Cas certainly deserves to have a celebration. Who’s Dean to deny him it?

\-----

Dean had been right. He’d known this was going to happen.

The party is in full swing. Somehow it’s morphed from a birthday party to a combination birthday-wedding reception-we’re all alive party, and it’s a little overwhelming.

He hadn’t realized just how much noise and excitement ten people can generate in one room, but after a few hours of it he’s finding himself needing a break. And he’s not the only one.

He’d noticed Cas slipping out a few minutes earlier, eyes wide and arms wrapped around himself. Dean had extricated himself from the game of twister Sam had gotten going to follow quietly, trying not to draw attention to either of them.

He finds Cas in their bedroom, laying on the bed with his eyes closed, and he leans against the doorframe for a moment, watching him.

Cas opens his eyes and smiles tiredly. “Hello, Dean.”

“Hey Cas.” Dean pushes off from the wall and coming to sit on the edge of the bed. “You okay?”

Cas starts to sit up, but Dean flops down on the bed beside him and pulls him back down.

“I’m fine. Just tired.”

“Yeah.” Dean yawns. “It’s a lot to handle.” He snorts. “Although I’ve never had a party like this one, I guess.”

“What do you mean?”

Dean cracks an eye and turns on his side, propping his head up with an elbow and trailing his hand aimlessly across Cas’s stomach. “Well, haven’t really had much cause for parties lately, Cas. Not for–” he thinks for a moment. “The last real party I went to was probably in high school, actually. So, ‘96, maybe?” He shakes his head. “Hunters aren’t much for partying.”

“You don’t do this for your birthday? Or for Sam’s?”

Dean snorts.  “Sam’s birthday isn’t exactly a lucky day here in the Winchester household, Cas.”

Cas’s eyes widen as he connects the dots. “You went to Hell on Sam’s birthday, didn’t you.” It’s not a question, and Dean doesn’t respond, and Cas doesn’t push it.

They’re silent for a few moments, listening to the faint sounds of revelry from across the bunker.

“Should we go back out there?” asks Dean, hand slipping under the hem of Cas’s shirt to play against his smooth stomach.

“I’d rather stay here with you.”

Dean smiles, rolling closer and wrapping his arm around Cas’s waist. “Yeah?”

“Of course.”

\-----

It’s late, and the party’s finally winding down. Sam looks up from his cards to see that Kevin and Charlie have both face-planted into the cushions, and soft snores are coming from someone on the couch. He’s not sure which of them it is.

He’s had a few beers, and he thinks at least two shots of something. He’s feeling good and slightly dizzy and there’s a warm feeling in his stomach. 

 _I should tell Cas happy birthday again_ , he thinks. _And wish them a happy marriage. Or whatever._

He glances around for his brother and the angel, and frowns when he finds neither in the piles of sleeping hunters.

Now that he thinks about it, he hasn’t seen them in a while. They were there for the pie, of course, and he thinks he saw Cas do a shot with Linda of all people, but after that– nothing. 

The only people still awake are Jody and Linda, deep in conversation in one of the alcoves. It looks serious, and he decides it’s best to leave them to it. Standing, he frowns. _It’s not fair,_ he thinks. _I’m further from the ground than Dean when I’m drunk. He can walk much easier._ He could swear Dean had at least one fewer legs to maneuver, at least.

Leaning against the wall, he carefully makes his way down the hallway, checking each room. They’re not in Cas’s room, though they almost never are. Nor are they in the kitchen, but the telltale empty pie dish makes him suspect at least one of them came through earlier.

His investigation continues down the hall. He’s glad to see no one is in his own room, and he nods to his bed, thinking, _I’ll deal with you later,_ and continues. No one’s in the study, or the TV room, or the weirdly shaped room Dean set the pool table up in. The doors to Josephine and Krissy and Aiden’s rooms are shut firmly and he’s pretty sure neither would end up in there anyway.

Finally he reaches the most likely location, Dean’s room. Or, he reflects, it’s not really Dean’s room any more. The empty wall has been filled with bits of art and shelves with rocks and carvings, and the bookcase is a mix of Vonnegut and Gaiman and children’s fairy tales. 

The door is slightly open, and he eases it wider, just enough to fit his head through to glance inside. He’s careful not to tip, though it’s a close call and he has to brace himself on the doorframe. 

And here’s his brother and his brother-in-law, fast asleep on the bed. They’re wrapped up in each others’ arms, faces inches apart and legs tangled.

Sam smiles softly at them. _It’s about time they had some peace._ His brother’s been happier this last year than Sam’s ever seen him. He’s got something to come home to that’s just for him and it’s changed him for the better.

He eases the door shut and wobbles towards his own bed, mindful of the promise he made it. Maybe someday he’ll have someone to share it with again, too.


	29. Doing Something Sweet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 29 - Doing Something Sweet
> 
> CO-WRITTEN BY TUNDRAETERNAL/LILY/DROWNEDINBLISSFULCONFUSION! Check out my co-written installment of her fic over on her list :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lily and I decided to swap fics due to a massive writers' block issue, so here's our result!

It’s nice, thinks Dean, just to pretend for a little while to be normal.  Well, maybe not white-picket-fence-two-point-five-kids normal.  But two people, walking through a park together, hand in hand, on a sunny autumn afternoon?  That’s just about the right kind of normal.  

He glances over at Cas, heart melting a little at the quiet contentment on his angel’s face.  He gives Cas’s hand a quick squeeze, and realizes that something is missing.  

“Hey, Cas?” he asks tentatively.

“Yes, Dean?”  It’s still a thrill every time Cas turns those blue eyes on him.  That will probably never change, no matter how long they spend together.  

“I know we’ve got the certificate and everything from Charlie, and the paperwork.  But it was kind of just for the convenience, I mean, dammit, of course it wasn’t just that.  I want to be married to you, but...”  Dean’s not quite sure how to get around to saying it.

“You’re referring to the strictly legal nature of our union?  The ceremony isn’t what’s important, Dean.  The fact that we are joined now is.”

“I never got you a ring, Cas,” he blurts.  He isn’t sure why he feels guilty.  It’s not like anything about their relationship so far has been traditional.  

Cas contemplates his hand, still clasped in Deans.  “Would you like to give me a ring?  I think I’d like to have one.”

Dean grins. He’s gonna do this one thing by the book, at least.  

\-----

Half an hour later they’re standing in a pawn shop at the edge of town.  Dean watches fondly as Cas solemnly surveys the trays of rings.  Most of them are enormous monstrosities in the shape of skulls or panthers’ heads.  But Cas seems to think they all deserve scrutiny, regardless.  Dean’s not going to tell him no if his heart’s set on the massive tiger-head ring he’s eyeing, but he hopes Cas picks something a little simpler.

He finally spots something good, and calls the shopkeeper over.  

“May I see this tray, please?” He indicates one near the bottom.

“Yeah, sure.”  The man pulls it out of the case, grunting as he straightens up.  “You got a good eye, this is my best stuff here.  Quality, not like the cheap Angel shit I’m always pulling in.”

Cas tenses.  “You have things from angels?” he asks, tone somewhere between disbelieving and threatening.  

“Yah, Hell’s Angels.”  He doesn’t seem to notice as Cas sags back into relaxation.  “They do a convention near here about once a year.  Always looking for cash.  That’s how I’ve got so many of these skull rings, and the ones with the crosses and the wings.”  

“Wings,” whispers Cas, as though the word has been drawn out of him without his knowledge.  

“You like the wing motif, eh?  I had one...” he glances over the tray, then pounces on a ring, pulling it out and holding it up to Cas.  “That looks like more like your thing, eh?  Size twelve, even, that should be about right for you.”

Cas takes the ring gently, and Dean moves up beside him to get a better look.  It’s simple--a thick silver band, or maybe steel.  It’s untarnished and looks solid and plain.  But a closer look reveals the shape of two wings, etched lightly into the metal.  

Cas turns it over in his hands and licks his lips.  

“Hey, come on.”  Dean puts a hand at the small of Cas’s back.  “Try it on.”  

Cas slides it onto his finger and, as predicted, it fits beautifully.  

“Dean, do you like it?” He turns puppy-dog eyes on Dean, as though there were any chance Dean would say no.  

“It’s perfect, Cas.”  He turns to the owner.  “We’ll take it.”

Cas hands it back over to be rung up, and when the man asks if he’d like a bag, he just holds out his hand for the ring instead.  

As they walk out to the street, Dean notices Cas is still holding the ring in the palm of his hand, and stops.  “You okay, man?  Don’t you want to put it back on?”

“I believe it’s traditional for you to put it on for me.”  Dean thinks for a moment that he might be kidding, but then remembers this is Cas.  

A little awkward to be doing such a monumental thing out in the middle of the sidewalk in front of a pawnshop, Dean thinks.  But then, that’s just how they roll.  He smiles and takes the ring from Cas.  

“You and me, Cas. Forever.”  He slides it on, keeping his hold on Cas's hand, and laughs as Cas flushes and ducks his head.  

“I hadn’t realized how important this ceremony would be to me.  Thank you, Dean.”  He leans in for a kiss.  

“Hey, wait a minute, while we’re doing this...” Dean tugs his own ring off of his right ring finger.  “Maybe it’s time for this to actually mean something.  Would you, uh, do the honors?”

Cas smiles hugely as he takes the ring from Dean and stares into his eyes. “Dean Winchester, I love you, and I want to spend my human life with you.”

They press their hands together, silver clicking against silver, and Dean leans forward to press his lips against Cas’s.  Neither of them notices the catcalls they get from the people across the street, or even the honks from the cars passing by. And neither lets go of the other for more than a second until they’re pulling off everything but the rings an hour later in their bedroom. That's when they press together, bodies slick and warm, and gasp their love for each other once more.


	30. Doing Something Hot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 30 - Doing Something Hot

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's all, folks! Thanks for reading and for sticking with it, and sorry for missing the deadline on one or two of them :) This was SUPER FUN and I may do it again some time.

It’s been a few years since Dean’s been to California. They’re way south this time, just him and Cas and miles of ocean.

He keeps watching for something to hunt before remembering that hunting’s not what this week’s about.

“Dean!” Cas is wading into the water, ridiculous swim trunks clinging to his pert ass, and Dean takes a moment to just appreciate the view, leaning back in his chair with a smile. His angel is standing in the water staring out across the waves, holding a shell in one hand with the other cupped over his eyes. Droplets of water drip down his back from strong tanned shoulders to his narrow waist. His hair’s gotten sun streaks of lighter brown for the first time and Dean likes it.

“Dean!” Cas turns as he calls again. “I want to show you something!”

Dean pulls himself up with a groan, wincing as his feet hit the hot sand. He stretches his arms up, rolling his shoulders, and jogs into the water. It’s cool where it laps around his ankles and knees and he breathes in the ocean air around him as he sloshes towards Cas.

The former angel is still standing thigh-deep in the water, his hair beginning to dry into messy peaks and curls. As Dean reaches him and steps up close behind him, Cas leans back until his back is pressed to Dean’s chest.

“Look.” He points out into the distance.

Through the hazy air, Dean sees shapes leaping in arcs above the water.

“Dolphins.” Cas sounds wistful. “Once I could have followed them across the ocean.”

Dean wraps his arms around Cas’s waist, pressing a kiss to his temple. “Yeah?”  He nuzzles Cas’s neck. “I’m pretty happy with you right here, Cas.”

He feels Cas’s smile against his cheek as his fingers come up and brush Dean’s ring. “We should take more vacations, Dean.”

Dean nods and pulls Cas closer. This isn’t what he expected out of life; ten years ago he would have laughed and maybe punched anyone who tried to describe him today. But he’s happy. He can’t imagine being anywhere else.


End file.
